#I know these are spooky but I have no idea what warnings to tag so–

[1010lilfoot]

I read the Locked Tomb series! Here's fanart for all the scenes that grabbed me by the skeleton

[lexawoah13]

I Want You

Soobin x afab reader

Synopsis: being the Halloween lover that you are you ask Soobin to dress up with you as your favourite anime couple. However after he avoids you for two weeks and forgets to dress up with you, Yeonjun steps in to make the both of you see how much you both want each other. Which results is his best friend becoming jealous and angry when anyone goes near you.

Warnings: jealously, anger, slut shaming(only slightly), lingering touches and gazes, oral, nipple play, unprotected sex (don’t do that, wrap it up, be safe), degrading talk, costume (it’s Halloween duh)

Features Soobin (of course), Yeonjun, Beomgyu, Taehyun, and Kai plus a special appearance from Heesung and Sunghoon from Enhyphen.

Also if you don’t know My Dress Up Darling give it a quick search just to get an idea of what Marin looks like.

Likes, comments and reposts are always appreciated ❤️ you are all the best and I love you all so much!

My asks are always open and so is my tag list! ✌️

Enjoy

Halloween is your favourite time of the year. You embraced every second of it and lived for spooky season. You decorate your entire apartment, you bake fall and Halloween treats, you watch all of your favourite Halloween movies and of course you dress up on the big day.

Even though it wasn’t so popular in Korea, you didn’t miss out. Making the people around you celebrate with you. Including the members of Tomorrow x Together, who you work for but are also your good friends. In particular, Choi Soobin, your best friend who you essentially spend all of your free time with.

So when Soobin agreed to dress up with you this year you couldn’t be more excited. Your best friend (your incredibly sweet, nerdy and sexy best friend who you wanted to climb) agreed to be the Wakana Gojou to your Marin Kitagawa. You both love watching My Dress Up Darling together so the couple's costumes were perfect.

You picked out the perfect costume, thanks to Yeonjun’s help, adding your own little twist on Marin’s classic High School uniform, wanting Soobin to notice you.

However, after showing him the costumes, Soobin became distant. You weren’t sure why, everything seemed fine until now, chalking it up to stress for the upcoming release.

But Soobin wasn’t stressed about the comeback. He was freaking out about you in that uniform and having to be around you in it. Because like you, Soobin also wanted you. This exact scenario has played out in his head a couple of times, ending with you being bent over a desk as he fucks your brains out. So, how in the fuck is he supposed to be around you all day dressed in the same uniform and not pop a massive hard on.

Being the idiots you both are, you had no idea that the other felt the same way about you. On the other hand, everyone else did, much to their dismay at how stupidity you both truly were.

Halloween comes, and Soobin still hasn’t been answering your texts or calls, you get extremely irritated.

“If he didn’t want to do it he could have just said so instead of ignoring me!” You complain to Yeonjun

“He wanted to do it, I know that. I Dunno what’s going on with him y/n I’m sorry”

“It’s alright, you didn’t do anything. I just don’t know what I did to make he act this way”

“I don’t think you did anything” Yeonjun says reassuring you, knowing exactly what’s going on with his best friend. “I think it’s just the comeback. We’re all kinda stressed, you know?”

“Yeah, I get that. I just wish he would talk to me instead of cutting me off” you say solemnly

“Hey, forget Soobin! Dress up and have fun all day like you had planned! If he bails on everything, I’ll be you Halloween date” he nudges your arm and wiggles his eyebrows

Unable to resist, you smile and laugh lightly at his antics “you’re on Choi! If you ditch me though, I’m moving back to *your country*”

“I would never!” He says, holding his hand to his chest as if your words caused him serious pain.

“I know. You’re the best Junnie” you hug him

“Anything for my best girl” hugging you back and kissing your head

“So should I still dress up as Marin?”

“Yes! Just make her sexier, make Soobin regret ditching you”

“You think it’ll work?”

“Oh it will, trust me”

“Okay? So, any suggestions?”

Bringing his hand to his chin in thought, Yeonjun smirks “I have an idea”

While you are lost in the discussion of your upgraded costume with Yeonjun, you’re completely unaware that Soobin had been watching your whole conversation from right outside the room. Jealousy seething through him as he watches you laugh and talk to Yeonjun. Seeing you hug him and Yeonjun kiss the top of your head was what really got to him though. That was your thing.

Yeonjun however had known Soobin was there the whole time, his plan working out perfectly. Soobin was jealous, and you were going to look like walking sex tomorrow. If the both of you don’t end up together after tomorrow, then there’s no hope.

The next day, you walk into Hybe in full costume. Adding Yeonjun’s suggestions, tying your shirt around your waist, turning it into a crop top, hiking your skirt up a little higher to reveal just the curve of your ass, and the white thigh high socks and black converse paired with Marin’s pink contact lenses. Nothing too drastic, but enough to make it sexy.

Yeonjun was already there, wanting to give you a pep talk before Soobin arrived. They were having a photo shoot today, which was another reason for the easy costume. It didn’t require any makeup besides Gojou’s mole under his eye. That is if he even remembered to dress up…

When you enter the room Yeonjun grabs your hand raising it above your head “y/n! Fuck you look good! Give me a spin”

While you spin, Beomgyu and Taehyun enter.

Beomgyu whistles and Taehyun compliments you as well “you look great”

“Great? Fuck if she wasn’t so into Soobin I’d make a move right now!” Beomgyu compliments “you look sexy y/n. And if he doesn’t take you, I will” he winks

“Yeah, you’d have to go through me first” Yeonjun adds in

“Thanks you guys but stop, you don’t have to do that”

“Do what? I’m dead serious” Beomgyu insists, Yeonjun nodding in agreement

“You guys are ridiculous” you laugh at them

Kai walks in and sees your costume instantly recognizing it “Marin!? Y/N you look amazing! I like the additions”

“Thanks Kai!”

“So that just leaves Soobin…”

“I swear to god this man.. if he doesn’t finally fess-“ Beomgyu starts but Taehyun quickly covers his mouth

“Shut up!” He angrily whispers “that’s for him to tell her, not you!”

“True, doesn’t make it any less frustrating though. Soobin is dense as hell sometimes” Yeonjun adds

“I'm gonna start setting up so we don’t run behind! You guys feel free to do whatever!” You say to them while you set up your station at the vanity. They all head to the couch and relax. It was still 5am after all and they were working themselves to the bone.

They sit on their phones and some shut their eyes. Yeonjun notices the time and Soobin should already be here. “Anyone hear from Bin?”

“Nope” terry responds “he’s late”

“I’ll text him” Yeonjun opens their conversation which was already spammed with worried messages from the last week and a half

‘SOOBIN!

Where the fuck are you?’

‘I can’t come’

‘The fuck?’

‘I’m sorry hyung i can't’

Yeonjun mutters under his breath “this mother fucker” dailing his number

“Listen-“ Soobin answers

“NO YOU LISTEN!” Yeonjun whisper yells at him hoping you don’t hear him. “Get your sorry ass down here now before I beat the living shit out of you. I’ll bring Taehyun” threatening his leader

“Hyung you don’t understand!”

“I DO UNDERSTAND! FUCK! I’ve been sitting here looking at her and yeah I get it, it’s really hard to not wanna fuck her, not gonna lie. But Soobin I swear to god if you don’t get your ass here in the next five minutes she’s fair game!”

“Hyung n-“ Yeonjun hangs up on him

“You serious?” Beomgyu asks

“No, but he’ll be here. Speaking of, let's give him a little push, hey?”

Mischievous smirks take over Beomgyu and Yeonjun’s faces, Taehyun looking kinda scared while Kai has no idea as he peacefully sleeps.

Moments later you walk over to the 4 men on the couch, “we should probably start getting you ready. Who wants to go first?” you ask,

“I’ll go first” Taehyun pops up

“Okay come over when you're ready” you smile at him before going back to your station, gathering the products you need for him.

“Okay Tae, you’re setting the pace, make sure when he comes in your-”

“Yeah, yeah I know. I’ll be lightly flirting. This feels wrong”

“Just turn on your big boba eyes and smile at her, that's enough to set him off”

Taehyun’s eyes widen before he turns and walks over to your station, sitting down and turning on his charm. Bright smile and big eyes looking at you with full attention, not even bothering to look at the door when he hears it open. Laughing and talking to you trying to keep your eyes from looking at Soobin to begin their plan. He’s mostly successful, you only turn to look at him for a split second, confirming it was him walking through the doors and then turning your attention back to Tae. You were mad at Soobin after all, he’s been ignoring you for weeks and you don’t even know why. What really ticks you off though, is that he didn’t end up wearing the costume after all. Confirming to you that your best friend really didn’t care about you in the way you had hoped for, and maybe not at all. So wanting to show him you were unbothered, you continued feeding into Taehyun’s weird flirty behaviour and flirted back. Leaning in a little closer than usual, laughing a little too much, hoping Soobin would notice and see you were completely unbothered.

Yeonjun leans over to Beomgyu to whisper in his ear before Soobin makes it to the couches, paused in his walk over staring at you and Taehyun flirting with each other. “You text Heesung?”

And Beomgyu nods “he bringing anyone?”

“Yep, Sunghoon.”

“Perfect” Yeonjun sits back, smiling that his plan is coming to fruition. Chirping out to Soobin to bring him over “you’re late”

Soobin looks over his shoulder at him, then back at you, then at Yeonjun before making his way to the couch, looking at you over his shoulder the whole time.

“What is Taehyun doing?” he asks concerned

“What do you mean?” Kai asks, he was quickly filled in on the plan. Now playing along with his role.

“He’s, I donno... He’s flirting with Y/N”

“How? He seems normal to me..” Beomgyu taunts

“No he definitely is. He’s using his full endearing charm on her right now. Look, I don't think his eyes could get any bigger and he won’t even blink. The fuck is going on I didn’t even think he thought of her like that?” Soobin’s tone increased in anger as he analysed you two.

“I think you’re overreacting Soob” Kai says “He’s just being himself.”

“Pft. yeah. Right. Sure.” he huffs and plops down on the couch next to Yeonjun, folding his arms and pouting

“If you would have told her how you felt already this wouldn’t be happening right now.” Yeonjun teases.

Soobin shoots him a look of disgust because he knows he’s right. He then returns his sights to you, noticing Taehyun holding you by your hand and lingering his fingers on yours, before coming over to sit down with his members. “Huning she’s ready for you” he says before sitting down next to him.

“Thanks Hyung” Kai smiles and basically skips over to you, giving you a huge hug, lifting you up and making you laugh “Kai stop!”

Soobin immediately scowls and turns to Taehyun, asking “what the fuck was that?”

“Hi to you too Soobin. What are you talking about?” He asks with just as much bite

“You know exactly what I'm talking about. What was that with Y/N?”

“Nothing? We were talking and stuff like we usually do..?”

“Don’t give me that bullshit you had your cute, and charming Taehyun act on with your big ass eyes and smile.” Soobin is seething, and Beomgyu and Yeonjun can’t help but smirk at how well this was working already, knowing it’s only gonna get worse.

“Soobin, you need to chill. You’re being paranoid. I wasn’t doing shit. You’re just jealous because she looks incredible right now, and you haven’t done anything about it yet.” Taehyun spits the facts at him, looking dead into his eyes before sitting back and crossing his arms knowing he won that argument. Even if Soobin was right and he was flirting with you.

Soobin can only sulk in annoyance at the truth. Looking over he sees you and Kai laughing about god knows what. But you were always like that with him. Maybe he was just over reacting. Starting to settle down a bit, the door shoots open revealing two people he definitely didn’t want seeing you in that outfit.

“Heesung, Sunghoon, what's up!?” Beomgyu calls out.

You and Kai both look at them, you smile and wave at them to greet them “hey!”

Just as Beomgyu asked them to, the Enhyphen members totally ignore them sitting on the couch, and walk directly over to you, even ignoring Kai.

Heesung leans against the vanity enclosing you between the chair, Sunghoon and himself. Putting on his best seductive face and says “Hi Y/N. You look nice all dressed up today”

You laugh at him and tuck a loose hair behind your ear acting shy “Really? You think so Hee?”

“Mmhmm. You look real good”

“Yeah you look incredible y/n” Sunghoon says, running his hand along your arm before you enclose him in a hug

“Thanks Hoonie”

You and Sunghoon were actually friends outside of work, much to Soobin’s dismay. Park Sunghoon was prince level gorgeous and Soobin knew that. He was always jealous of Sunghoon because he knew if Sunghoon asked, you would be his and honestly Soobin couldn’t blame you. If Sunghoon asked Soobin to date him, he’s pretty sure even he would say yes. So when you oh so happily hug him as his hands drift lower and lower down your back, squeezing you in tight, Soobin’s knuckles turn white from how tight he’s clenching his fists.

“Hoonie?” He asks in disgust “Thanks Hoonie” mimicking your voice under his breath

“Hmm? What was that?” Yeonjun asks hearing fully what he said

“nothing“ Soobin huffs, his legs shaking up and down fastly in annoyance.

“Sure” Yeonjun teases before he stands up and walks over to their visitors, Beomgyu and Taehyun right behind him. “Can’t be rude”

“Tcht” Soobin scoffed again, reluctantly standing up. Beomgyu and Yeonjun subtly fist bumping.

Soobin just watches in disgust as Heesung and Sunghoon’s eyes never leave you. Scanning your body up and down when you're not looking, then looking oh so intently at your eyes and lips when you were talking to them. Soobin has indents from his nails in his palms from trying to hold back his anger. Everyone’s circled around you while you work, taking in and ogling your body as you slightly bend over to attend to Kai’s makeup. Bending over causes your skirt to rise even more, revealing the curve of your ass. Soobin wants to just carry you away and hide you from everyone's sight. Keeping you all to himself

“Alright Kai you’re all done my sweet”

“Thanks y/n”

“Who’s next?” You ask turning around and smiling, bumping into Yeonjun who’s right there

“Me” he says, keeping eye contact while you both turn around until he’s sitting in the chair.

“I was gonna ask for a turn” Heesung laughs

“And what could I ever do with your pretty face Hee?” You tease, grabbing his chin and shaking his head slightly, making him blush unexpectedly.

“Maybe we should request you for our next shoot, you are are really good Y/N” Sunghoon

“Yes, you totally should! I’d love to work with you guys at least once!” You excitedly respond

“Awesome I’ll tell our manager to request you then!”

“Hey hey hey! No one said you could steal our makeup artist. She’s ours!” Beomgyu pipes up

“Hey she said she would so maybe she needs a new group that will treat her right” Sunghoon winks, taking your hand and kissing it

“Oh my god Hoon stop” you giggle ”My txt boys treat me just right thank you. Doesn’t mean I wouldn’t work with you though” blowing him a smooch of appreciation

“Say the word pretty and we will take you in a heartbeat”

The flirting with Sunghoon has become too much and Soobin has to leave the room before he punches his stupidly pretty perfect face in.

“Hey! Where are you going Hyung?” Kai asks noticing him leave

“To piss” he snaps back. His tone not being missed by anyone, Kai follows after him

“Hyung!” Kai has to run to catch up to him “Soobin wait up!”

Soobin turns and snaps at him “what do you want?!”

“Woah what is wrong with you? I’m just checking on you”

Soobin feels bad and releases a loud exhale “it’s just… Ughh fuck everyone is all over y/n and I’m gonna punch someone” rubbing his hands down his face

“So doesn’t that tell you everything? Just tell her how you feel! God Soobin, if you’re that jealous of everyone around her you clearly love her. Tell her before she goes with someone else” Kai states sincerely

“But-“

“But what? You don’t think she likes you back? Soobin.. UGHH-“ Kai says in annoyance “for fucks sake she’s literally dressed as Marin Kitagawa right now. Why do you think that is?”

“Did you just curse?”

“Yeah I curse when I’m extremely frustrated FOCUS!”

“Cause she like My Dress Up Darling” he says completely clueless

Throwing his arms up and head back, Kai almost screams, holding it in with tight lips.

“Hyung you have to be the densest person I know” patting him on his shoulder before he turns to walk back to the room.

“The hell does that mean?”

Exhaling deeply, Kai turns back to him “if you think she likes that anime just because it’s “good”, you truly are an idiot. She likes it so much ‘cause she watches it with you. And how similar you both are to Marin and Gojou.”

“What are you talking about?” Soobin asks literally having no idea what Kai is talking about.

“Figure it out your fucking self!” Waking away

Soobin is left alone, thinking over what Kai said. Not piecing any of it together. Sure Gojou likes Marin and he likes you but… making the most literal assumption about the characters, he can only think he doesn’t make clothes and you don’t cosplay. Not thinking that you could ever like him the way Marin likes Gojou.

He goes to the bathroom and splashes cold water on his face trying to cool his temper. Taking deep breaths the whole way back before he enters, and sees Yeonjun, Beomgyu, Heesung and Sunghoon closely huddled around you. Yeonjun leaning forward gliding his fingers up and down your exposed thighs to the hem of your skirt.

Immediately returning to his enraged, jealous self as you look over to him with not a bit of emotion on your face. Only to return to Yeonjun with the largest smile on your face at something he said, applying something to his lips.

Sunghoon places his hand low on your back as he pretends to lean in to observe your work.

“Kay Junnie you’re all done! Beomgyu your turn”

“Hey y/n can you give me some of that too?” Heesung asks, moving a piece of hair from your shoulder, twirling it around his finger.

“What? The lip balm? You literally have it”

“Yeah but I don’t have it on me and my lips are feeling dry” he playfully pouts

“Yeah, mine too, would you mind? Please?” Sunghoon asks sweetly

“Umm.. yeah sure” you grab your lip applicators and turn to Heesung, who’s sitting on the vanity to come to your height. Parting his lips, looking into your pink coloured eyes with his seductive gaze. Honestly making you lose your breath for a minute. You apply the balm to his lips making them even plumper and more enticing than before. You turn to sunghoon “Hoon can you come a bit lower? I can’t really reach”

“No worries pretty, I got you” grabbing your waist to steady you as you raise up on your tiptoes to reach his plump lips. Gazing into his eyes once again hitching your breath. These men were doing something to your head and you were starting to lose your composure. diverting your eyes back to his lips, you swipe the last of the balm on his lips. Sunghoon rubs them together before smiling his pointy canine smile simply saying “thanks pretty” lowering you to be flat on your feet.

“N-no problem” you stutter and turn to Beomgyu “ready Gyu?”

“Never been more ready y/n” smiling while gazing into your eyes

“Oookaayy?” You draw out the word. Wondering what is going on.

Yeonjun leans in on the side opposite of Soobin staring at you, making sure he would see, and whispers in your ear sensing your confusion “just go with it” looking at him with confusion he winks at you, and you just nod.

You move to start applying makeup to Beomgyu’s face, but Heesung cuts in “Hey, we’re gonna head out. Our schedule starts soon.”

“Oh already? It was great to see you, Hee!” you give him a hug and he squeezes you tightly around your waist, nuzzling his head into your neck.

“Great to see you to Y/N! I’m serious about you working with us though”

“Then make it happen” you wink, turning to Sunghoon “Bye Hoonie, it was so good to see you” giving him a hug as well, but Sunghoon lifts you off the ground spinning while he holds you tight. Lifting you above his face saying “Good to see you too, Pretty. Let's hang out soon, yeah?” smiling as he lowers you back to the ground.

“Yeah, that would be great! I miss you”

“I miss you to y/n. Catch up over dinner?”

“Deal” you smile. Your hand lingers in his and Sunghoon brings it up to his lips, placing a soft kiss on it before letting go and turning to walk away.

“Later guys!”

“See you on league later?” Beomgyu asks

“Definitely! Later” Heesung raises his hand in a goodbye before walking past Soobin, bumping into his shoulder.

Sunghoon walks right behind him, and looks at Soobin before letting out a small chuckle, seeing the rage on his face.

You return to your job, and begin on Gyu. Laughing and talking the whole time as usual. But knowing how angry Soobin is you start to get concerned as you watch him storm over to the drink table.

“What is going on with him?” You whisper, asking Beomgyu.

Leaning forward, he whispers “Donno, but he’ll get over it” he begins to run his fingers along the top of your thigh high socks, dipping his fingers just underneath, nestled between your skin and sock. Gently gliding across your skin as he continues his mindless act. This wasn’t anything new for Beomgyu. He tends to mindlessly do this to everyone who has some sort of exposed skin but, you can tell something is different from the way he is looking at you. But trusting Yeonjun you just go with it, knowing they wouldn’t do anything to hurt you.

As Soobin walks past you he stops dead in his tracks, watching Beomgyu’s hands ghost over your exposed thighs. You could practically see the steam coming from his ears.

The other three men on the couch started to get concerned, with Kai asking “you guys sure this is okay? He might murder Beomgyu”

“I’ve never seen Soobin look so angry,” Taehyun added. That is until Beomgyu looks over at Soobin while you grab a product from the table and gives him Soobin a shit eating grin.

“I take that back! Now I’ve never seen him look so angry” Kai stands up to pull Soobin to the couch “hyung, breathe.”

“I’ll breathe after I fucking kill him” Soobin seethes

“No you won’t! Just calm down”

“Calm down?! Calm down? Are you serious right now? I’ve been watching the fucking lot of you touch and flirt with her all day! You’re all lucky I haven’t snapped yet! But now, now he dies” he starts move but Taehyun grabs him and shoves him onto the couch

“Calm down” Taehyun demands as he holds Soobin on the couch.

“Fuck off and let me go”

“No you need to calm down”

“Like fuck”

“You’re gonna scare her so calm down!”

“What’s going on!?” You cut them off, concern evident in your voice

Soobin instantly freezes enough for Taehyun to let go of him.

Yeonjun speaks up “nothing! Soobin is just a little… sensitive today”

“Everyone nods except Soobin who can’t take his eyes off of you. Jealousy and anger are still very present inside him.

”okay… well I’m ready for you Soobin”

“Everyone out” Soobin calmly demands

“What?” Yeonjun asks

“EVERYONE OUT!” The leader yells, shocking everyone “NOW!”

They all stand to leave but not before telling you they won’t be far if you need them. Questioning if they pushed him too far.

“Woah Soobin, what’s up?”

“What’s up?” He laughs manically “what’s up!? Are you fucking serious right now?”

“Seriously, what is going on with you right now?”

He stands up leaving no room between your bodies, looking down at you “you! You and everyone all over you. This is what you wanted right? everyone’s attention? Wearing this fucking excuse for a costume, you’re basically asking for it.”

“EXCUSE ME?!” You raise your voice at him, livid at his accusations, taking a step backwards.

“Oh like you don’t fucking know. Hiking up your skirt, leaving your buttons undone, and adding those fucking thigh high socks. It’s a far cry from Marin’s uniform! Looks like you clearly after something” spitting his words at you in anger he tried to get closer but you continue to step backwards until you hit the wall behind you. Caging you in, he raises his arms to rest on either side of your head.

“Choi Soobin I know you’re not slut shaming me right now over a fucking costume!” You yell

“Damn right I am y/n! What the actual fuck were you thinking?”

“Why the fuck does it matter to you Soobin!? what I do is none of your business! Besides you haven’t even talked to me in the last two weeks!”

“I’m your fucking friend and I’m trying to look out for you!”

“No your just jealous because other people noticed me and had enough balls to actually make a move”

“I know what they’re like Y/N they’d just use you for their fun and then everything would be fucking ruined”

“WHAT IF I WANT TO BE USED SOOBIN? HUH? Ever think of that? Ever think I wanna be fucked?”

“GO FUCK THEM THEN!”

“You’re actually ridiculous you know that” scoffing at him

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean y/n?”

“Since you think you know everything I actually wore this for YOU. I thought I’d try to make you fucking notice me for once. We were actually supposed to dress up as Marin and Gojou together, but you forgot about that! I wanted to dress up together so maybe once you would actually see me as more than your friend. Someone you’d like to fuck. So no Soobin I didn’t do this to randomly fuck someone or for anyone else to notice me. I WANTED YOU!” Anger and hurt flow through your words at everything he’s just said to you, slamming your hands into his chest.

Soobin freezes, staring at you in shock as all the anger starts to fade. His voice barely audible as he asks “what?”

You just stare back at him, your eyes darting between his as you try to gauge what he’s thinking right now. “I want you to notice me. I want you Soobin” almost on the verge of tears but calmly telling him how you feel.

Soobin’s eyebrows are furrowed in confusion and his eyes are wide, as his mouth hangs open. His brain runs blank of words to say. Just repeating your last words over and over again. Silence hanging between you for too long and you waver.

“I get it, you don’t see me that way. I just thought I’d just take a chance… forget what just happened and that I said anything. Sit down, I have to do your makeup” you side step under one of his arms, removing yourself from the cage his arms enclosed you in. Walking to your makeup station, grabbing your brush belt and getting the products for his application. Busying yourself to stop the tears from spilling down your cheeks.

He stands there. Still and not moving, leaning against the wall, just stuck in a loop repeating the words you said over and over. But the longer he stands there the harder your words hit him. He finally knows you want him the way he wants you.

“Soobin! Please just forget everything and let me do this. You’re gonna be late” continuing to organize the things you will need.

Making up his mind, Soobin turns, and takes long strides toward you.

“Soobin please-“ as you turn around he crashes his lips into yours cradling you face in his hands

“Soobin- what- stop” you make out between kisses

“Shut up” he demands, picking you up by your plush thighs, walking to the mirror and sitting you on the desk. Not once stopping his attack. His hands roam your thighs and hips, squeezing and caressing as he pleases.

Migrating his kissing down your neck, needing to taste more of you.

“Soob- what.. mmhmm- what are you doing?” barely making out the words as your brain fogs with desire.

“Noticing you, like I have been since I fucking met you” he quickly says before attaching back onto your neck.

“Wha-“

Groaning, he grips your hair at the base of your neck, tugging back to make you look up into his eyes, “I noticed you. I notice you the second our eyes lock, and everytime you’re remotely near me. I’ve always wanted you Y/N. That's never been a question” Soobin states, eyes locked on yours leaving no room for doubt.

“Well you’ve never shown it!” you snap, angry again because how has he been able to hide this from you for so long.

“I didn’t think you wanted me. I’m not going to pressure you into doing something you don’t want. Especially if it meant losing you and not having you at all.”

“Soobin I-”

“I’ve always wanted you Y/N” he cuts you off and pushes his hips into yours. Showing you how much he means it, grinding his hardened cock against your soaked core. Both of you are panting heavy trying to catch your breath, looking at one another, darting between your eyes and lips.

You breathlessly whisper “then take me”

Soobin lips crash back onto yours before the final syllable leaves them. The kiss is heated, messy, and all over the place. Teeth clash as your tongues fight for dominance. Months of built up sexual tension between you two, finally being released in the most heated way possible. Both wanting more as your hands roam each other’s bodies, pulling on the fabric covering your skin, needing as much contact as possible.

Soobin makes quick work of your shirt, untying the bottom and ripping open the only button you had fastened, eliciting a shocked gasp from you.

Chuckling he says “you’ll be fine, you barely had it on anyways” kissing your collarbone

“That a problem for you?”

“Only when others can see you” Biting your skin to punctuate his statement. Leaving a purple mark in its place.

“Jealous are we?” You taunt

Coming back to eye level he states “I don’t like people touching what's mine”

“And I’m yours?” you slyly question

“You are now” he says, pulling your bra down to reveal your breasts, groping them with his large palms. “You’re mine Y/N” pinching your nipples when he says your name, claiming your lips with his. You start grabbing at his clothes, pulling his loosely tucked shirt out of his pants, sliding your hands underneath to feel his skin. Running your hands along his abs and slim waist isn’t enough for youz, “off” “off now” you whimper during the short break of kissing. But he doesn’t hear you, continuing to kiss you roughly. Pushing him back off of you, seeing the hunger in each other's eyes you command him “take off your shirt”. The fabric is pulled over his head and on the floor in a split second, and he tries to resume his previous work. But you stop him, holding out your hand to his chest. “Lemme see you”

It’s not like you haven’t seen him shirtless before, but it’s different. Watching his chest rise and fall quickly, the light sheen of sweat coating his skin. His abs flex as he tries to control himself, allowing you to see what you want. As you admire him you reach around your back, quickly undoing your bra and throwing it at him. Leaning back, you tilt your head and bite your lower lip, beckoning him to come to you as you curl your index finger in.

“Fuck you’re so hot” pouncing back on you as fast as he can. Hands enveloping your bare chest, as his lips attach to your neck, wanting to cover you in marks. Your fingers tangle in his hair as your head falls back, your moans and whimpers leading him further and further down your torso, a trail of wet, open mouthed kisses left in his wake. One he meets your navel, he looks up at you, giving your approval with a slight nod. His palms ride up your thighs until he reaches your skirt, flipping it up to show your soaked core. Your white panties basically see through from your slick, clinging to your folds.

“Oh fuck you’re soaked baby. Need to taste.." His words trail off as he leans in and firmly glides his tongue over your heat through your panties. A low groan sounds from deep in his chest, savouring the sweet taste of you on his tongue. Pushing the tip of his tongue against your folds, running it up and down excruciatingly slowly. You’re saccharine moans fueling him to tease you even more, slowly driving you crazy.

“Soonin please” you plead

“Hmmm?” he hums against your still covered core, the slight vibration ringing through your clit that he’s currently attending to.

“More please bin! Please” you plead again, irritation starting to build inside you. It felt good but you wanted more, you wanted to feel his tongue on you.

He ignores you, content where he is. Building speed but still over your drenched garment.

You still call to him, wanting more from him “Bin.” “Bin please” “more” “fuck Soobin” “SOOBIN!”

Irritation runs hot through your body, needing to punish him for his neglect and his actions earlier. He wants to be a brat, so be it.

You glide your fingers through his hair on the top of his head, starting soft and almost petting him leaving no room to suspect anything from you. When you feel he’s relaxed enough, you grip his hair harshly, pulling a loud hiss from him, and pull him off you.

“What the fuck?” he barks at you

“You don’t listen” scolding him while still pulling his hair firmly, knowing it hurts. “If you listened I'd be coming on your face right now, but you had to be a greedy brat.” You push your panties to the side with your free hand and start circling your clit while his face is mere inches away. Eyes glued to your fingers while you please yourself “‘m sorry, please let go baby, please” weakly begging without ever looking at your face

“I don’t think so” bringing his face closer but just out of reach of his tongue being able to touch you. “That's a pathetic excuse for an apology” you glide your fingers down and plunge your middle and ring fingers inside your pulsing hole. Sinfully moaning at how good it feels. Taking them out you show him how wet they are “see Binnie. Could have been you instead but, you had to be a greedy brat” returning to rub your clit in front of him.

Whining he apologizes again “oh fuck, Y/N i’m so sorry, let me taste you again. Please!”

“Hmmm, i donno.. I feel pretty good right now, maybe I don't need you” moaning as you speed up your fingers.

“PLEASE Y/N! Won't do it again please! Wanna make you cum.” his eyes finally come up to yours and they’re watering as if he might actually cry if he watches you cum by yourself and not because of him. Without uttering a word you pull his hair crashing his face back into your cunt. The most beautiful moan rips from Soobin’s chest when he tastes your bare skin. His tongue immediately finding your clit, wanting to make you cum. He lifts one of your legs over his shoulder, giving even more access to you and slides your panties off “these need to go” he exhales, still captivated by your bare pussy in front of him. Quickly returning to your heat, his tongue prods at your dripping opening, devouring every last drop he can find before plunging the muscle in. Your grip tightens on his hair, pulling him in even more, moaning as he finally gives you what you want.

“Good boy Binnie” you praise, unknowing what that would do to him. Soobin’s eyes roll into the back of his head, his deep groans sending pleasure through you as his tongue is still inside you. His already hard cock gets even harder, twitching against his pants, begging to be freed. Soobin replaces his tongue with three long fingers, finding the perfect rhythm against your spongy spot while deliciously stretching you. His mouth attached to your clit, sucking the sensitive nub relentlessly. Wanting to hear those words come from your mouth again he’s willing to do anything.

Your words are almost incoherent through you moaning “Oh fuck Bin! So good-” “oh fuck don’t stop” and he has no intention of stopping until you cum, even if he stops breathing. He would love nothing more than to die this deep in your pussy. “Aghh- Fuck- mm- Gonna- gonna cum” Light headed, Soobin doesn’t stop, craving your orgasm just as much as you were. With one final high pitched moan, you come undone. Your juices cover soobin’s fingers, dripping down his hand, while your essence covers his face. Sucking and licking up every last drop of you until you're clean, sucking off what’s left on his fingers and hand. Looking up and smiling at you as he does so “mmm all clean”

You can’t help but compliment him “good boy”

His face and chest flush deep red, as his breathing stops. You swear you can see the chill run down his spine. “You like that, Binnie? When will I call you a ‘good boy’?

He nods stiffly, until the can verbally assure you “yes”

“Well, how about my good boy come over here and get his treat?” You bring both of your feet to the top of the desk, keeping your legs open, spreading your folds with your fingers to show him your needy hole.

“Fuck” he exhales as he comes to you, cock throbbing to be inside you already. He quickly undoes the button on his pants, along with the zipper, dropping them to his ankles. Before removing his briefs he looks at you, making sure this is what you want.

Sitting up and tilting your head to the side you can’t help but smile at him, a slight chuckle behind your question “what's wrong Binnie?”

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” he hesitantly asks, if you say no he might die. He’s not sure he can live after this if you say no.

“Do you want this Bin?” you question back, smiling kindly at him as you sit up. Radiating kindness in your eyes, you reach for his hands.

“Fuck i’ve never wanted anything more in my life Y/N” he avoids your hands, insteading holding your head to his. Hoping you can feel how sincere he is.

“Soobin, I want this. I want you. I want you to fuck me. Right here. Right now.” your hands reach for the waistband of his underwear, hooking your fingers around it and pulling them down as you say against his lips “I want you to fuck me like I’ve always wanted” ending the sentence with a kiss to his lips as you let his briefs fall around his ankles with his pants, fully exposing his member to the cold air surrounding you. Parting from his lips, you look down to finally see the dick you’ve fantasized about for so long. “Holy fuck” you gasp under your breath, wrapping your fist around his thick shaft. “Bin you’re huge..” your voice drifts off as you oggle him, stroking him up and down, rubbing your thumb over his precum covered head. You let a drop of your spit fall from your mouth, using it to lubricate your hand.

“Mmm fuck- alright enough of that!” Soobin removes your hand from his member, pushing you to your back and aligning himself with you. “You ready love?” lightly pushing his tip against your opening.

“God yes Soobin please!” You whine desperate for him to be inside you.

“Thank god! I don’t think I can hold back any longER” gliding past your opening, slowly sheathing himself fully inside you. Rubbing every nerve along your sensitive walls.

Both of you moaning in harmony, finally together as you both fantasized about. Soobin’s cock was not for the weak. It reached so deep inside you, you could see it bulge through your stomach, while his girth stretched you so sinfully good that tears came to your eyes.

“you okay Y/N?” Soobin asks, concerned after seeing the wetness on your lashes.

“”M good Binnie, So fuckkingg good” you moan in response

“Mmkay pretty, Can I move then?” he chuckles lightly at how fucked you are right now

“Please. Fuck Binnie please” you beg

Sliding his hips back you both hiss in pleasure. Pulling back until his tip is all that remains inside you, he thrusts back into you.

“UGhh Bin” his hips pick up speed, his tip pressing against your cervix with every thrust.

“Fuck baby you feel so good”

“Fill me-uuughh- so good”

“Perfect pussy. So perfect. My pussy all mine” Soobin massages your breast with his hand, his other gripping tightly onto your hip. Praises are spit out in between the erotic sounds being made.

“Close Bin- fuck i’m so close”

“Me to baby me to”

“Want you to cum inside” You can feel Soobin’s cock twitch inside you, causing you to clench around him.

“Oh fuck!’ He moans “you serious Y/N?”

“Yes! Want your cum Soo-BIN” your voice hitches as his hips harshly slap into yours.

“Want my cum? Want me to fill your pretty pussy?” His voice takes a different tone, sounding deeper and sexy, dominant. Feeling your clench around him as he spoke to you this way pushed him further. Pulling out, he flips you around, pushing back in, his hips slap against your ass a couple of times before he bends forward. He lifts your leg up onto the desk, resting your weight on your knee while he wraps his long arms around your chest and stomach lifting you up. You can see everything. You’re smudged lipstick, black smudges of mascara, his messy hair pushed off of his forehead as he smirks at you. The way his fingers are working quick circles around your clit while the other is toying with your breast, squeezing and pinching your nipple. But your eyes are locked lower on the mirror. Locked on the sight of Soobin’s cock sliding in and out of you. The visual has you shaking in his arms, drooling at how good his cook looks filling you, anticipating what it will look like when his cum is shooting inside you, dripping out when he pulls out of your throbbing cunt.

“Look how sexy you are, Y/N. See how well you take my cock baby?”

“So gooood-”

“My pretty girl can’t talk? My cock making you stupid?”

“Mmhmm” you whine “wan- wanna cum”

“You wanna cum baby? Wanna cream all over my cock?” he teases, biting your neck. You can only moan in response. “I’ll take that as a yes” he chuckles against your skin, before whispering “Cum for me Y/N” giving you one last deep thrust to push against your sweet spot, and you crumble. The band inside you snaps, hard, pink coloured eyes rolling to the back of your head as you clench around his length as your cum coats him.

“Good job baby. So good for me” he praises you, kissing your shoulder as he works you through the last ripples of your orgasm. Completely spent, your head falls back against his shoulder, only being held up by Soobin’s arms wrapped around you.

“Holy fuck bin” you breathlessly say

He chuckles “what?” starting to slowly glide into you again

Moaning, already overly sensitive from just cumming, you tell him “you’re fucking cock, jesus”

“Mmm? What about it, Y/N?” he hums in your ear, upping the intensity of his movements ever so deliciously. Dragging along your gummy walls

“ohH fuucckk”

“What about my cock Y/N?”

“So good- cock’s so good” you cry out, Soobin’s cock hitting deeper inside you again, searching for his own orgasm now.

“You need to be more specific, baby. Tell me what is it about my cock that you like so much”

You have no idea where your usually shy and bashful best friend is right now because the man fucking you right now is very different. Different in the sexiest way possible. “Never knew you were so dominant Bin”

He laughs, deeply in his chest “Talking back now are we?”

You look at him through the mirror and smirk, raising your eyebrows in a challenge wanting to push him even further.

“Alright then” he lets go of your body, and pushes you down flat to the desk “fine, be a brat”.

The slapping sound echoes throughout the room, the stinging pain where his hand made contact with your ass caused you to cry out. Fucking you harder than he had before, using you for his own need, taking out the remaining frustration he has from earlier.

“Gonna talk now?”

“Why would I do that, Binnie?” you pant between breathes as he fucks into you harder and faster.

Your reddened cheek is met with another harsh slap, making you arch your back and clench around his cock, “fuck!”

“Oh you like that. Not such a good girl afterall. Baby likes it rough huh?” Giving you another slap, you confirm everything he just said. “Mmm my baby likes it rough. You like it when I spank you, pretty girl? Like it when I'm rough?” spanking you on the other cheek now you cry out in pleasure. “Fuck youre so hot you know that? Squeezing my cock like that”

“Fuck Soobin, need you to cum” you whine. “Want your cum Soobin please!”

“You want me to cum? Tell me what you like about my cock first Y/N. Be a good girl and I’ll fill you up.”

“Fuck Soobin. You’re cocks huge - so big, fills me so good. Ahhh-hits so deep inside. Fuck! stretch me so good. Makes me feel soo good Binnie, fuck- PLEASE!- PLEASE BIN- cum in me”

“You want it?” he teases one last time, as you say the words that make him crumble

“Please Soobin! Fill me with your cum! Make me yours- Claim me Binnie-”

Soobin fucks you hard and fast, chasing his orgasm to do exactly as you begged for.

“Mine baby- FUCK- gonna make you mine. Make sure everyone knows it too. Fill you with my cum baby- Drip down your thighs for the rest of the day- squirm everytime you feel it remembering my cock deep inside you. Make you feel better than anyone ever could. You’re mine Y/N-mine!”

His hips stutter and you feel his cock twitch inside you as his hot white cum starts to paint your insides. The feeling of finally being with Soobin and being claimed by him, is so overwhelming, you can't help but cum with him. Kissing down your spine while you both come down from your highs, you turn over your shoulder leaning for a kiss. When he connects his lips to yours it’s heaven. The anger and desperation are absent this time, letting you both feel your emotions. Feeling how you both belong together.

It felt so right, like all of your missing pieces had been found. You found your home, and it was Soobin.

“Y/N”

“Mmhmm?” You smile at him pulling away from his lips

“I- I..”

“Come on Soob don’t be shy now” you tease him

“I’m just… fuck I’m just so happy right now”

“Me to Soobin. So so happy”

“I love you Y/N” he confesses

Your eyes widened, shocked that he just spoke the words you dreamed of hearing one day. Too stunned to speak. Sure you just fucked each other and admitted that you both wanted each other but love!? You knew you loved him but hearing him say those three words made your heart explode.

“It’s okay if you don’t feel that way. I just,” he rubs the back of his neck embarrassed “I just really wanted to tell you.”

The biggest smile spreads across your face unable to contain your glee. ‘He’s so fucking cute I can’t handle it’ you think to yourself before you respond to him “I love you to Soobin!”

His eyes light up as he engulfs you in the tightest hug. “God I love you so much. Can I keep you to myself now? Can you be mine? Only mine? Please!?” He asks

“Soobin you goof! I was already yours!” You giggle at how adorable he is. “You’re so fucking cute I can’t handle you!”

“Stop!” He blushes and hides in your neck at you calling him cute

“I can’t help it, Bin! Look at you, this is the CUTEST!” You squeal at him

He pokes out of your neck at looks up at you with big brown puppy dog eyes as he rests his chin on your chest and pouts, whining “stop teasing me”

“YOU THINK THIS IS BETTER!? My heart is gonna explode from cuteness overload! You’re like a big puppy” you rubs his head, emphasising your point.

“Okay okay!” He laughs before taking your hand off of His head and kissing your palm. “You really are like Marin when I think about it. You sounded just like her just now”

“I’ll take that as a compliment. Marin Kitagawa is bae. However, can we talk about how jealous you were earlier”

Hanging his head in his hands Soobin pleads “yeah… can we forget that? Please?”

“Why? Are you embarrassed?” You tease him, making him groan. “You know, it’s was kinda hot though”

Soobin’s head springs up “yeah?”

“Yeah, it was pretty hot seeing you get so mad when the guys were talking to me.”

“They weren’t talking, they were all over you! Touching you and shit! I-“

“Soob! Calm down. You won babe, I’m all yours” kissing him to shut him up.

“Yeah… you’re mine. My girl”

“And you’re my man”

“Y/n?”

“Mmhmm?” you hum sweetly

*Knock knock knock*

You both jump, startled and try to cover yourselves as you watch the door crack open a tiny bit

“Hey guys, it’s just me” Yeonjun quietly says through the door “I don’t know what you’re both up to but Soobin the shoot starts in 15 minutes you need to get ready.”

“Okay! Thanks hyung” Soobin responds awkwardly as Yeonjun shuts the door, leaving you two to fix yourselves up and get ready for the shoot.

You both scramble around, scouring the floor for your clothes. Quickly putting back on your underwear, and bra, and tying your shirt around your waist and fixing your skirt. You grab your brush belt and prepare as fast as you can, while Soobin walks back over to you, fastening the button on his pants.

“Sit” you smile at him and point to the chair

As he takes his seat you look him over and immediately regret attaching onto his neck so hard earlier. Covering the purple and red marks was going to take longer than you hoped. So you dive in right away, not wasting a single second. Concentrating so hard that you don’t even talk.

Soobin takes in your appearance. The love bites that he left to decorate your neck and chest make him feel warm inside, knowing everyone will see them. His eyes wander to your face and he can't help the swelling of his heart as he watches your eyebrows crinkle as you concentrate on trying to cover his hickeys. Finding the way you bite your lip and lick your lips as you work is adorable. He’s watched you work so many times before, and seen these faces both while you work and when it’s just the two of you gaming or working on something, but this time it’s different. Knowing that you love him the way he loves you makes everything about you that much cuter. He speaks before he even processes what he’s going to say

“Y/N?”

“Mmm?” Humming in response, words taking too much effort at this moment

“Can I take you on a date? Like a proper one?”

Your whole body freezes as you finally look at him, not just the marks on him. “What?” You ask quietly

“Will you go on a date with me?”

“Yes. YES! Of course I will!” You smile and hug him before giving him a quick peck.

“Is tomorrow okay?”

“Yeah that sounds good” you say excitedly as you return to your work, finishing covering the last of his marks, moving on to the rest of his face. “God I hope you’re wearing something that covers most of this! I’m gonna be in so much shit!” referring to the million marks you had left on him.

“Y/N it’s okay that’s what editing is for” chuckling as he rubs your arm in support

“I just got so carried away… wanted to show everyone your mine”

“Like I’m one to talk! Have you seen yourself?” Laughing at how desperate you both were to claim each other.

“Still!” You apply concealer around his eyes and blend it into the rest of his makeup. Combing through his brows with a gel and adding a light tint to his already swollen lips. “Your lips are even more pouty now. Fuck you’re gonna look to good in this shoot. I can see the edits now” despair shooting across your face as you tip your head back.

“Hey! Who cares about edits? I’m all yours baby”

“But everyone’s gonna see how sexy you look” you pout

“And who did that to me?” Soobin raises his eyebrows and you flush a little “exactly” he smirks and pecks you quickly

You blend out the subtle blush you applied and then look him over, making sure everything looks okay. Which of course he does, his skin is flawless and he always looks gorgeous. “Okay I’m done”

Standing from the chair he looks in the mirror and fixes his hair “you’d never know I was covered in hickeys a minute ago”

You slap his arm and he laughs “keep it that way bin!”

“Alright alright!” He turns to you, grabbing your hands gently with his huge ones and looks into your pink tinted lenses as you look up at him. “I’ll text you after the shoot okay?”

“Kay” you softly respond.

Taking your hand up to his lips, Soobin places a soft kiss on the back of it before saying “I love you Y/N”

“Love you to Bin”

He gives you one last kiss, his hand cupping your ear as his thumb rubs your cheekbone. He reluctantly lets go and jogs to the door. Before exiting, he turns back to you and smiles.

“I’ll see you later?”

You nod and he leaves with a smile plastered on his face. Walking down the hall to the shoot, he sees the guys. All staring him down with intense eyes.

“What?” Soobin asks tentatively

“WHAT!? Bro you need to spill NOW!” Yeonjun demands

“Ahhh- wow look at the time we have to start yeah? I think they just called my name” he points with his thumb over his shoulder as he quick walk turns into sprint to wardrobe to escape this conversation.

“CHOI SOOBIN! Get back here” Yeonjun chases after him, not willing to let him off the hook until he hears every last detail of how well his plan worked out.

Yeonjun’s phone pings notifying him of a new text message. “Don’t think this is over Soobin!” He yells at him, stopping to take out his phone, seeing the notification with your name. Opening your message he smirks proud of his two idiot best friends.

“Thank you ❤️” is all your text said but he knew exactly what you were referring to

“You're welcome pretty! but you owe me 😘😉”

[buckymorelikefuckme]

what a wicked thing to do

vampire wanda maximoff x fem reader

words: 4.2k

warnings & tags: **18+ ONLY** lesbian vampires yes GAWD, fantasy au, inaccurate historical au, smut, fingering, implied soulmates (?? kinda i guess), biting 👀, mention of blood, does this count as hurt/comfort? we shall see!! and uhhh it's kinda spooky ooky vibes but it's not really dark? i think. pls let me know if i missed anything!

a/n: listen..... i've already got spooky season in the brain and i really wanted to reshare this fic. i've edited it a little but i've also left the link to where i orphaned it on ao3 in the title if you prefer reading there~ any and all mistakes are my own! feedback is greatly appreciated and heavily encouraged pls and thank ♡ xoxo

wanda maximoff masterlist || main masterlist

It’s that time of year in between autumn and winter where it’s only getting colder and colder, no reprieve even during the sun’s highest point of the day. Part of you worries it’s a mistake to wander through the woods like this, especially so close to sunset.

But then you remember the briefest moment when you saw her, when your eyes met hers; it happened so quickly, but also felt as if time stopped. Something flashed in her gaze before she looked away and disappeared in the busy crowds of the village.

That moment, as brief as it was, leads you here. You hug your arms tighter to your torso, cursing the bitter wind whipping around you. Your dress had been a bright idea when you’d first thought of it. Now, you’re wondering why you thought such a plunging neckline would be smart, considering the seasonable chill in the air.

Although, you think with a flutter in your stomach, that’s not exactly true. You know exactly why you chose this dress.

There’s hardly any light left in the sky by now. You’re kicking yourself for getting lost in the woods, wondering if anyone would notice, or care, whether or not you return to the village. You have no family, no money, nothing tying you to anyone or anything. You work odd jobs to be able to make ends meet. The people knew of you, but you are sure they hardly concerned themselves with your well-being.

But then, when your gaze had met her own, you’d felt seen for the first time in ages. It was like she could see everything inside your mind, every ounce of longing and every bit of loneliness, even in the split second she held your stare. You haven’t been able to stop thinking about her since then. Nearly two weeks have passed, and you’d finally decided to find out if the stories that follow her hold any truth. They are quite colorful, full of fantasy and myth, surely decorated to sound more elaborate as the years go on. Fantasy and myth, perhaps, but one particular piece of information continues to remain the same.

She hasn’t seemed to age in the fifteen years she’s spent living near your village. Not one line or wrinkle to be seen on her pale skin. Not one gray hair on her head. Some of the elders even swear they'd seen her when they were children.

Her home is a mystery, one that stays that way out of fear. There is something about her eyes, some say, something off, not quite right. Because of this, no one has felt compelled enough to try finding her home.

At least, not until you.

You’re beginning to think you are truly lost, feeling hopeless, when you finally spot something in the distance. But just as relief washes through you, the rain starts. Each drop feels like sharp, stabbing pieces of ice landing on your exposed flesh, soaking into the thin fabric of your dress. It takes mere minutes for you to become drenched. Your dress is now clinging to your body uncomfortably, the cold even more biting than it already had been.

It comes into view, what you’d spotted several meters back, easier to make out. A looming castle breaks through the trees, windows lit with candles.

Your arms and feet are going numb, but you push through, stumbling your way to a cobblestone path that leads to tall, wooden doors. With a trembling hand, you raise the door knocker and bang it against the door as loud as you can manage, praying whoever is inside will hear.

Your wait is short lived, thankfully. The door creaks open loudly to reveal the very woman you’d been searching for. If she’s shocked to see you, she hides it well. She looks as regal as ever. A black dress hugs her lithe body, her hair perfectly brushed and styled. This close to her, you can see what the people mean. She looks ageless.

“E-excuse me, madam,” you begin, trying your best to keep your teeth from chattering. “I-I’m terribly lost and I d-don’t think I can find my w-way back to the village.”

The woman lets her eyes roam your shivering frame, lingering on your glistening chest for a second, then meets your pleading gaze.

“Of course. Please, do come in. I’m sure you’re cold.”

“Th-thank you,” you reply earnestly.

She steps aside, leaving just enough space for you to squeeze by.

“Think nothing of it,” she assures you. “You’re welcome to stay as long as you need, at least until the storm passes.”

As the door closes behind her, you take in as much of the space as possible. With it being nighttime, the candles can only do so much. For a castle, it is rather large, but it’s not quite as foreboding as you would have imagined. Though, you surmise, you hadn’t really known what to expect at all.

“Would you like something dry to change into?”

You whirl around, almost tripping over your feet as her voice registers, so close to your ear.

She smiles, amusement tickling the corners of her mouth. “Perhaps a cup of tea?”

Swallowing roughly, you nod, offering a smile of thanks in return.

“Very good. You should go sit by the fire to warm up while I get everything sorted.”

She points toward a room where you can see flickering light dancing off the walls. You nod again, letting your tired feet follow the promise of warmth. The closer you get to the large fireplace, the harder you shiver, goosebumps rising along your skin. You stand as close as you deem safe, hands held out to thaw them. For the second time, she sneaks up behind you.

“This is all I could manage to find.”

You gasp as you turn to face her. She’s still smiling as she holds up the proffered item of dry clothing.

“You frightened me,” you state dumbly, huffing a quiet laugh.

“I did not mean to,” she replies.

“It’s okay.” You glance at the clothes in her hand, a frown forming on your face. “A… dressing gown?”

She makes a sympathetic face. “It was all I could find,” she repeats.

Her eyes dip down to your chest again. They flash, just like in the village, but you’re sure it could have just been the fire reflecting in them. You look down to see what she’s staring at and heat rushes up your neck. Your nipples are clearly outlined against the wet fabric of your dress.

“Oh,” you murmur as you lift your arms to cover yourself.

She clears her throat delicately. “Take this. You’ll get sick if you keep your wet clothes on.” She pointedly holds the dressing gown out to you again until you gingerly take it. “I’ll go get the kettle started while you change.”

“Thank you,” you return quietly.

When you’re sure she’s gone, you undress as quickly as you can, more shivers wracking your frame as you stand naked in her drawing room for a few seconds before pulling on the silk dressing gown, tying it securely around your waist.

While you wait you decide to get a better look of the room. A few paintings hang on the dark walls, but mostly they’re covered with floor to ceiling shelves and stuffed to the brim with books. You take notice of a few spots where the dust hasn’t seemed to settle in front of them, figuring those must be her favorites. A plush chaise sits in the center of the room with two chairs on either side, atop an ornate rug that rests on most of the floor. There are a couple small tables between the chaise and chairs with candelabras on them, and a wide, lower table in front of them. You spot a desk by the only window in the room.

There’s nothing particularly personal about the space. It almost feels as if she’s newly moved in. But you know that can’t be true, especially since so many people in the village have seen her visit town for years now.

A piece of parchment on the desk catches your eye. You debate over whether or not you should let your curiosity get the better of you, your feet slowly carrying you over to where the paper lay. There’s writing on the top piece, and you get as far as the addressed “Brother,” but then hear her round the corner and quickly back away.

“I wasn’t sure if you took cream and sugar, so I brought them just in case,” she tells you, setting a silver tray on the low-lying table that held the teapot and teacups.

You walk over as she pours the tea into both cups. You pick one up and carefully drop two lumps of sugar into yours, stirring it with your teaspoon until you’re satisfied it’s melted. A careful sip as you sit down and you hum happily.

“Better?” she asks, smiling and taking a sip of her own tea, sitting beside you.

It occurs to you suddenly that you hadn’t asked for introductions. You scold yourself internally, knowing you had better etiquette than that.

“I must apologize, I seem to have forgotten my manners. I never introduced myself,” you say, then offer your name. “And what is yours, madam?”

“You may call me Wanda,” she replies.

“Well, I owe you a great deal for helping me, Wanda. I cannot thank you enough.”

She waves a dismissive hand. “Please, there is no need. I’m glad I was here and that you aren’t in danger of freezing to death.”

“As am I,” you respond, laughing lightly.

Silence settles between you. Your mind whirls with hundreds of questions, but you don’t know where to begin. Your plan to find her only consisted of just that— finding her. Now that you’re here, you aren’t quite sure what to do. Or say, for that matter.

You can feel her eyes observing you like a caress. You struggle not to squirm or shiver, though you are no longer cold. No, there is no chill clinging to your bones anymore. Her stare alone provides enough heat. You chance a glimpse of her from the corner of your eye, but she catches it. She purses her lips to keep from smiling in amusement.

“So,” you blurt, cheeks pinking, “have you lived here long?”

You bite the inside of your cheek as soon as the words leave your mouth. Stupid, stupid girl.

Thankfully, Wanda laughs.

“Quite,” she says teasingly, like she’s letting you in on a joke.

You nod. “I see. Is it a family home?”

She tilts her head consideringly. “Of a sort.”

What is that supposed to mean? Miraculously, you don’t ask that question aloud.

“Do you… Do you live alone?”

You’re not sure why you ask. Perhaps it’s that you haven’t heard any other movement throughout the castle that indicated a waiting staff of some sort. Afterall, she was the one to fetch the tea.

“I do,” she says.

You don’t want to examine it too closely, but you’re positive you note a hint of longing in her tone.

“S’a lot of space for one person,” you muse in acknowledgment.

She nods. “Indeed. However, I’m sure I’ll find the right companion soon.”

You take another sip of your tea to avoid replying, but are not able to avoid meeting her gaze. The look in her eyes is something you’ve never seen directed at you. You’re hesitant to think it could be want, open desire. Not from a woman like her.

—

Wanda still cannot believe that you’d shown up at her door.

She’s spent months watching you from a distance, never allowing herself to be seen by you—not until she felt it was time. From the very first moment she caught sight of you, she knew. You are hers. Her mouth watered when the wind brought your scent to her. There was not a doubt in her mind about whether she would have you; she simply would.

She had waited, ever so patiently, watching you as you roamed the streets of the village. You didn’t seem to have very many acquaintances, if any at all, and you were always alone. Wanda quickly figured out that you were without a family as well.

Selfishly, she’d been happy about these facts.

Finally, Wanda allowed herself to meet your gaze. It was quick, but she knew her eyes flashed, knew that she piqued your curiosity. It would only be a matter of time.

After nearly two weeks had gone by, however, she had started to think it hadn’t worked. She’d planned on returning to town to purposefully cross your path again, but as luck would have it, you came to her. As soon as she heard the knock on her door, she smiled.

Now, as she sits next to you on the chaise, your skin glowing in the firelight, she finds it harder to maintain her control. This close, your scent is even more intoxicating. Wanda can tell that you’re curious about her. The questions you want to ask are swirling behind your eyes. And now that you’re here, she decides she’ll answer whatever you ask, give you anything you want.

You’ve gone quiet, though, so she does some prodding of her own.

“What were you doing out in the woods?” Dressed like that, blessedly, goes unsaid.

You shyly glance down at your lap. “I, uh, I like to take walks,” you mutter into your teacup as you go to take another sip.

Wanda hums. A plausible excuse, indeed. You carefully lean forward to set your cup and saucer on the table and when you sit back you move your hair over to one shoulder. Wanda’s eyes zero in on the pulsepoint of your neck. If she focuses hard enough, she can see your heartbeat throbbing beneath your skin. It makes her teeth itch, makes her control waver even more.

When she drags her gaze away from your neck, she finds you already observing her. Her desire is clearly reflected in your eyes and the feeling is heady.

—

“Are you warm now?” she wonders.

“Yes,” you whisper, your breathing picking up, making your breasts heave alluringly.

You’d go as far as saying you are overheating. The dressing gown, where you’d been unsure and embarrassed of being nude underneath it before, is now a blessing. Your body feels alight with an unseen, growing fire. Shifting on the chaise, you don’t notice the sleeve slip down your shoulder, only registering the air skimming across your collarbones. You let out a surprised gasp when you feel something cold on your bare arm.

Peering down reveals it to be Wanda’s hand carefully sliding the sleeve back up into place. Your brows pull together in a frown.

“Your hand…” you mumble, trailing off.

She lets it linger on your shoulder for a moment, then slowly traces down your arm, her thumb grazing the side of your breast. Your nipples tighten, thighs clenching together as you watch her fingers stop at your wrist. Though her touch is cold, it feels like a relief against the searing heat of your flesh. You peek at her through your lashes and find her expression to be one of complete hunger.

Feeling emboldened, you hold her stare as you shift to pull the sleeve down again.

Her lips lift on one side, her teeth glinting dangerously. “Are you sure of what you’re doing?” she asks.

You blink, faux innocence shifting behind your eyes. “I’m not sure I know what you mean.”

Wanda takes a deep, steadying breath, though it only helps in inhaling your scent more. She says your name. “Why do you think you are here?” The question catches you off guard. Wanda shifts even closer to you, watching your throat bob as you swallow. “We both know it isn’t because you accidentally got lost in the woods. You were out there with a purpose. What was it?”

You lick your lips, noticing her gaze immediately drop to them. It makes your heart pound in your chest.

“I don’t know,” you reply, unsure.

She leans in, her nose nearly touching yours. “You do,” she whispers, without doubt. “Why are you here?”

Your eyes flutter closed, head tilting back without you being aware of it, exposing your neck. You feel her presence mere centimeters away from you, her breath puffing out along the column of your throat.

“I… I felt drawn here. It feels like I was meant to be here,” you say, quiet, almost hoping she doesn’t hear you.

It feels ridiculous to say it out loud. It’s one thing to have that thought sit in the back of your mind where you could pretend it didn’t exist, but to admit it aloud is entirely different.

“With me?”

You shiver at her words, her lips having softly dragged across your skin. Helplessly, you nod.

“Are you afraid?”

That makes you frown, but you adamantly reply, “No.”

“Open your eyes,” she pleads.

You follow her instruction, wary, but gasp at what you see. Sharp fangs peek out from Wanda’s lips, her eyes so pale they’re almost white now. Though your heart continues to race, it’s not out of fear. It should scare you, it should send you running, but you find your hand slowly rising to carefully trace a finger down one of her fangs, amazed that she even lets you.

“You’re…” You start, meeting her patient gaze once more. “Beautiful,” you finish in a whisper, because she is. You go to reach for her face to stroke her cheek, but she lurches backward. In a blink, Wanda’s on the other side of the chaise. Disbelief paints her features.

“You think I’m… beautiful?”

“Of course,” you state plainly, brows furrowing. Wanda continues staring at you in wonder. “You said I was here for a reason.” Ironically, she’s now wary of you as you shuffle closer to her. “I know what that reason is now.”

“Which is?” she asks apprehensively.

“You,” you murmur, cupping her cheek. “I’m here for you.”

Wanda looks as if she’s scared to accept this, to hope for it to be real. You steal away those worries by leaning in to place a soft kiss to her lips. She inhales sharply, eyes squeezing shut, her cold hands gripping your wrist almost painfully. You give her a moment, kissing her forehead as she gathers her emotions, keeping her gaze down.

“Are you sure?”

Her voice cracks softly, but her grip on your wrist loosens as you move it. You lift her chin so she’s looking at you.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

She stares at your lips for a few seconds, and then, as your words sink in, they seem to send her into action. She surges forward and captures your lips, more sure, more eager than before. You respond in kind, pulling her as close as possible, sighing into her mouth.

You quickly find yourself on your back on the chaise, Wanda above you, bodies slotting perfectly into each other like lost puzzle pieces. You feel her hand slide down from where it was in your hair to graze along your sternum. Then her hand cups your breast, thumb swiping across your nipple, and you gasp. It’s the perfect opportunity to deepen the kiss and Wanda takes it.

Her tongue slides against yours and you whine, clutching at her like she’s the only thing tethering you to this earth. It becomes so easy to let her settle between your thighs, to arch into her touch and slide your tongue in her mouth, delicately tracing over her fangs. Wanda shudders, grunting inelegantly before wrenching herself away, panting heavily into the space between you. You blindly chase after her, opening your eyes in confusion.

Wanda’s gaze is intent on your neck, full of desire. The weight of the moment hits you, then. What exactly it would mean if you give in to her. So, with full faith in your decision, you tilt your head ever so slightly and she goes perfectly still.

“Go ahead,” you encourage.

She shakes her head. “You don’t know what you’re asking.”

You huff. “I do. I want you to do this.” You know she won’t look at you just yet, so you lace both your and her fingers together and squeeze hers as you continue. “I need you to do this.”

“If I do,” she starts, swallowing thickly, “I won’t be able to stop. You’ll end up like me.”

You duck your head to catch her stare. “And what’s wrong with that?”

She closes her eyes and falls silent for a moment. The weight of your words fall over the two of you like a winter blanket.

“I’ve waited so long,” she confesses, voice quiet, shaking and timid.

“For me?” you ask. She nods. “I’ve been looking for something, or someone, to make me feel whole all my life.” You use your free hand to stroke her cheek. Even with her eyes closed, she leans into you. “I’ve waited for you, too.”

When she finally looks at you, you know there’s no going back for either of you.

“It’s going to hurt,” she warns.

“That’s okay. It will only be temporary.”

She smiles then, slow and teasing. “I can ease the pain, you know.”

Her free hand tugs lightly on the ties holding your dressing gown closed, raising her eyebrows in silent question. You bite your lip and nod, shivering in anticipation. She undoes the careful bow you’d tied, easing it open and exposing your body to her hungry gaze.

If you felt heated before, you’re an inferno now. Her hands reverently map out every curve of your body. She leans down and plants a kiss above your belly button. It makes your stomach clench in want, but you make yourself lie there and take whatever she plans on giving you. Her kisses lead up your torso, until she’s eye level with your breasts, and before you can comprehend her movement, she’s taking one of your nipples into her mouth.

“God,” you whimper, head thrown back as you push your chest into her face.

“No,” Wanda giggles, “just me.”

You try to laugh, but it turns into a gasping moan when she pinches your other nipple between cold fingers. Your thighs attempt to close around her, yet it’s futile. Her free hand begins its descent down to the warm heat between your legs. Your hips buck into her touch, crying out when her fingers make contact with your clit.

“I’m going to do everything I can to make this feel good, okay? Let me take care of you.”

You nod quickly, your mouth going dry. When a single finger enters you, you forget how to breathe for a second, but then she’s sliding it out and back in, setting a steady rhythm, and you’re back to panting and whining. Only a few minutes later, though, you’re wriggling around, begging for more. She adds another finger and picks up the pace.

“Oh,” you gasp, your legs falling open wider.

Wanda buries her face in your neck, inhaling loudly, groaning. She licks across the skin there, nipping at you.

“Wanda,” you whimper.

“I know, my love,” she rasps. “You’re so close.”

Your hands have drifted above you, clutching at the pillows on the chaise, your hips moving in tandem with her fingers. Her thumb meets your clit, adding to the building warmth in your belly. It swells and swells, until finally, it has nowhere else to go and explodes within you.

You feel her teeth sink into your neck at the very same moment, and you can only yell brokenly into the air. Pain and pleasure war inside you, both white hot and searing, marrying themselves into a delicious and lethal combination. You can feel blood trickle down your throat, the same way you can still feel her fingers thrusting into you. It seems to never end and you grow limp beneath her, unable to handle the sensations flowing through you.

She finally slows, removing her teeth and licking over the wound. As her fingers slide free, she brushes your sweaty hair off your forehead with her clean hand.

“Sleep now,” she instructs, kissing you softly.

You can’t even attempt to argue, your body listening to her and promptly sending you into a deep slumber.

—

When you wake, before you even open your eyes, you’re aware of a few things.

To start, you’re no longer on the chaise. You’re on a luxurious bed, which is presumably Wanda’s. Your hearing is significantly better, as is your sense of smell. There’s a low thrum of energy coursing through your veins, like you’re on edge but don’t know why. But the more important thing you’re aware of is the feeling of eyes on you.

“I know you’re awake now.”

You crack open one eye and see Wanda smirking at you from the other end of the bed. You smile and sigh happily.

“How do you feel?” she asks.

You carefully sit up and stretch. You notice her ogling your still naked body and give her a smirk of your own. Shifting onto your knees, you crawl over the bed until you reach her and straddle her lap.

“Hungry,” you answer before grasping her face in your hands and attaching your mouth to hers.

With a force she hadn’t used before, she tosses you backward and is on top of you in a flash, a devilish smile on her tragically beautiful face.

“Good.”

[sailorrhansol]

TRICK OR TREAT!!!

fuck, i love this concept.

sour skittles + ghostface + the craft, pls 🤲🏻

(smut is always welcome, although i know that is highly dependent on whatever it is i just chose, lmao)

❀ Pairing: Vernon x afab reader

❀ Summary: Vernon has been one of your best friends for years. Shy, quiet and calm, he’s always been a steady rock for you. He has no idea you’re in love with him, but that’s neither here nor there. After a strange series of events on Halloween night, Vernon seems a little… different, and the new version of him both terrifies and thrills you. 

❀ Word Count: 21,558

❀ Genre: Supernatural, Friends to Lovers, Thriller

❀ Type: Smut, Angst

❀ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging in and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

❀ Warnings: Explicit language, recreational drinking and smoking, crude humor, some of the members of SVT are a bit of an asshole in this - it is not a reflection of how I think of them, mentions of occult practices, a NOT ACCURATE spirit summoning/ritual, mentions of a murder suicide case/event, mentions of murders, light mentions of blood, mentions of infidelity, catching someone in a sexual act (not the main couple), Vernon is a bit of an asshole at times, mentions of insecurities/confused feelings, I owe Chan and Mingyu an apology for how I wrote them, sexual tension, some angst, sexually explicit content including thigh riding, oral (f. receiving), nipple play, a lot of biting and scratching, choking/breath play, vaginal fingering, a lot of spit and cum mentioned, unprotected sex, references to sub space, Vernon takes a dom role but it is not explicitly established, Vernon gets a little bit possessive, calls reader a slut a total of one time, some light finger sucking, reader is at several points annoyed with the women in this fic which can come off a lil bitchy, general creepy scenes in woods and in some dark spooky places. 

❀ Additional Content Warning: It is implied by the end of this fic that Vernon is possessed to some degree by a spirit in this. I make zero distinction as to whether it’s Vernon or the spirit calling the shots or if there is even a difference/distinction between the two, which poses the fair question of consent in parts of this that I do not address or provide nuance to. The lack of clarification is due to the POV of this fic being entirely from reader’s perspective and she doesn’t have a clue what’s going on until the very end, and thus we are unable to unpack to what degree this character is or is not himself. If that lack of nuance bothers you, that is valid but this is not the fic for you. 

❀ A/N: This was supposed to be a drabble. This was supposed to be a drabble. THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A DRABBLE. Anyways, Jade my beloved you got Vernon + Friends to Lovers + Slasher and honestly it’s less slasher and more supernatural so I actually totally apologize but I leaned too far the other way I’m so sorry soifsdiofjdfiogj I love you love all the specific easer eggs for you and also show you to Jade because they specifically helped me write the Mingyu ‘graveyard smash’ line thanks bye

❀ A/N 2: Alternative summary for this fic is Hali repeatedly drags Chan because she loves him so much 

❀ Reader Notes: This reader is never explicitly gendered as girl/she/her etc. so I have listed them as an afab reader. 

❀ Disclaimer: Disclaimer: All members of Seventeen are faces and name claims for stories. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios. Moreover, none of my works accurately reflect, represent or take a stance on the nuances of Korean culture, cities, people etc. Seventeen members are not Seventeen culturally, intellectually, physically, or representationally in my stories, and should be considered name and face stand-ins for made up characters.

Main Masterlist ❀ Tag List Request Form ❀ Ask ❀ Haliween

Cool wind lifts the pages of your book, threatening to flip them over. You press your fingers flat to the page, fighting to keep them from flitting over and losing your place in the story. There’s not much daylight left in the sky as the afternoon dies to make way for the evening, but you’re eager to finish the chapter, craving to unravel the mystery you’ve been working your way through the past week. 

Atmospheric sounds play in your headphones as you read. Your legs are crossed, book in your lap as you sit on the concrete wall separating the quad from one of the sidewalks on campus. Now that there’s a chill in the air, you crave being outside, finding the opportunity to sit wherever you can on campus to crack open a book before the sunlight finally fades. 

Flipping the page, you only get a split second warning of the shout you hear through your headphones before something hits you in the back of the head. You yelp, dropping the book to the ground as your headphones clatter from your head to the grass from the impact. 

Scowling, you swivel around to see Mingyu jogging over, his hand over his mouth as apologies start pouring out of him. A flush creeps up your neck as he approaches, his friends and fellow fraternity brothers watching from afar. Some of them are bent over cackling, the others have their hands on their head, visibly stressed from hitting you with their football.

Again. 

“I am so sorry,” he pleads, running a hand through his sweaty hair. “Seungcheol threw wide.” 

“Maybe play on a rec field, then?” You snap, sliding from the wall, picking up your headphones and book. You kick the football toward him, irritated. “There’s literally so many other places you can play. Don’t you have a yard at your little frat house?” 

“It’s being used for float building for the Halloween parade.”

“Convenient.” 

For the most part, Mingyu isn’t so bad. He’s a little loud and obnoxious, but he’s always nice and he does seem to mean it when he picks up the football and apologizes again. It’s more than a lot of his fraternity brothers would do, though it’s not much now that they’ve managed to hit you twice with the same ball. 

Someone like Mingyu wouldn’t even pay attention to you if it weren’t for Vernon, though. As Mingyu retreats, the reason you’re even friends with Mingyu appears on the sidewalk, coming toward you with his hands in his pockets, hood pulled up on his head and headphones on. He lifts his chin in greeting to Mingyu, but Vernon’s brown eyes focus on you, his true destination. 

Vernon pulls his hood and headphones down when he’s within a few feet, jerking his thumb at Mingyu. “What did he want?” 

“He was apologizing for hitting me with the football. Again.”

“Again?” 

“Yeah. They hit me earlier.”

Vernon hums, displeased. He doesn’t say much, instead turning to lean against the wall, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets again.

The last embers of sunlight hit his side profile, stunning you to momentarily silence. In a halo of fiery light, Vernon looks like a god. His light brown eyes turn burnished gold, reflecting the dying sun. His hair is spun copper, strands dancing in the breeze as he watches the world around him. 

Not for the first time, you think that you understand why Helen of Troy inspired a thousand ships to come after her. Vernon’s face is the kind of thing you’ve read about in all of your mythologies and folktales for your Occult Studies major, so beautiful that it can’t be real.  

If Vernon notices you staring, he doesn’t say anything. Instead, his eyes watch the other members of his fraternity play football, one of them crashing into someone on a lawn chair. He shakes his head and mutters under his breath, wearing his second-hand embarrassment silently as he watches them apologize for the millionth time. 

Vernon is nothing like the rest of his fraternity. You’re still unsure why he even joined. It was something he had done his freshman year going into school, wanting to put himself out there and make friends. 

He certainly looks the part - he’s handsome and in shape from playing soccer in highschool, and he’s got good fashion sense for a college student. But he’s quiet and a little awkward, unsure how to navigate conversations with most people who aren’t in his immediate circle of friends and shy to an almost crippling point. 

It had taken Vernon seven weeks of being your lab partner before he finally spoke more than three sentences to you. For the longest time, you’d assumed it was because he thought you were beneath him. It wouldn’t have surprised you. Greek life on campus tended to stick with their own. 

Now, you know it was because he didn’t know what to say or how to start a conversation. You’d only managed to get him to talk to you when he noticed a song by Frank Ocean bleeding from your headphones, piquing his interest. 

Four years later, talking to Vernon is easy. Well, maybe not easy. You’ve got years of friendship between you now and you know what makes Vernon tick, but the butterflies you get when you’re around him and the way your heart swells when he does something so simple makes it a little harder. 

Like now, as day fades to evening and the world is awash in purple and gold, and he’s looking at the watercolor sky like it's the most fascinating thing in the world, completely unaware that while he’s in awe of the sky, you’re in awe of him. 

Vernon jerks forward, making you flinch. You have no idea what he’s doing until his hand is in front of you, smacking down the football that has been sent your direction again. You huff in frustration, watching as this time it’s Chan who jogs over to get it. 

“Are you all fucking serious?” You demand. He slows his approach, eyes darting to Vernon as though looking for help from his friend. Vernon says nothing, bending over to pick up the football and toss it to Chan. “I should shove that football up your ass.” 

“Maybe not the football,” Chan quips, catching it. He looks you up and down, head cocking to the side a little. His mouth lifts at the corner and there’s a glint in his dark eyes that makes you even angrier. “I’m open to other things, though?” 

“You’re so gross.”

“What? You’re hot when you’re mad.” 

“Go away, Chan!” You shriek, flustered and angry as you spin around to grab your things and storm off. You only get a few feet before realizing Vernon is still leaning on the wall. “Are you coming or not?”

He scrambles after you, nearly tripping over his own feet to catch up. Chan is snickering as he runs back toward where the others wait for him, yelling a trilling bye toward you and Vernon as you charge north toward the main campus parking lot. 

“He’s so annoying,” you gripe, shoving your book in your bag. Vernon hums, noncommittal. You glance at him. “Nothing more to add?” 

He lifts a shoulder. “It’s cause they think you’re hot, Lovecraft.”

You smile at the nickname, fondness sweeping through you. He’d started calling you Lovecraft your freshman year after learning about your major, deciding that it just fit. You like it - at least coming from Vernon, who understood Occult Studies was more than just spooky and magic and the metaphysical. 

“They think anything with a set of tits and a hole to stick their dick in is hot. I’m sure a blowup doll would blow their fucking mind.” 

Vernon’s mouth twitches at that. “You’d hate Chan’s room.”

“Don’t give me that visual!” 

His laugh is warm. He bumps shoulders with yours, grinning at you as the two of you walk. You feel the telltale sign of your traitorous heart beating extra hard at his closeness, your gaze shooting to the floor as you try to hide any evidence of your feelings that might lurk on the surface of your expression. 

Thankfully, Vernon never seems to notice. You’re glad that he doesn’t. You don’t think you’re very good at hiding how you feel, but he is equally bad at picking up on it, totally oblivious to the long stares and the way you fumble over your words when he gets too close. 

Vernon has that effect on a lot of people. His proximity to being attractive has always outweighed his inability to make small talk among the female population on campus. The amount of times you’ve watched girls openly flirt with him and whisper about what it would take to get him to crack was insurmountable. 

Autumn wind kicks up leaves at your feet. Neither one of you says anything as you walk, simply content to be together. It’s one of your favorite things about him, never feeling pressure to perform or to have conversation. Being with Vernon is just… easy. Natural, even. 

The parking lot is slowly emptying as the rest of the late afternoon classes end. A few unlucky evening class students pull in, slamming their car doors and rushing off to their auditoriums. Vernon’s car is easy to find and you let yourself in, sliding into the passenger seat like it’s yours - it kind of is. 

“Pizza?” he asks, engine humming to life. 

“Please.” His lips twitch in a soft smile as he nods, flipping on the radio. You hum, leaning forward and turning up the volume. “I love this song.” 

Vernon’s smile increases as you lean back, the sounds of Emotional Oranges filling the car. He rolls the windows down once he’s on the road proper, cool wind kissing your skin. You pull your feet up onto the seat, leaning toward the window as the fading twilight brushes past you. 

Outside the car, the world smells like pine. You take a deep breath in, loving the way the October air feels just right. Fall is always your favorite time of year, and with the music playing in the background, wind in your hair and Vernon drumming on the wheel, you don’t think there could be anything better in the world. 

Sal’s Pizzeria glows against the dark, a beacon of hunger and hope against the night. The giant pizza slice on the roof blinks rapidly, the neon a little bit broken. Gold light glows through the windows as you climb out the car, gravel crunching beneath your feet. 

A bell chimes as the door opens and a group of students pour out, laughing and carrying boxes. Vernon catches the lip of the door and holds it open for you, gesturing you to enter first. The smell of bread and warm air hits you in the face, your lips curving as you tell the girl at the host stand two.

College students and local residents fill the restaurant. The hostess leads you to a booth in the corner, the vinyl seats creaking under you as you hop-slide your way in. She hands you the menus, her eyes lingering on Vernon as she does, lips twitching when she asks if there’s anything else you need. When he doesn’t answer, you shake your head, shooting her a thin-lipped smile. 

She’s hesitant to leave but she does, casting one last look over her shoulder as she heads back to the stand. You look at Vernon too, studying him. He’s none the wiser, brown eyes scanning the menu even though you know he’s going to order the same thing. 

When the server comes, Vernon does as expected: orders a diablo pizza with a side of fries. You shake your head a little, asking for the white feta pizza, handing over the sticky menus. When the server is gone, Vernon leans back in the seat, sipping his coke as he drinks you in, wordless. 

You kick your feet up on his side of the booth next to him and he lets you, patting your ankle fondly when he sets his drink down. He has no idea how torturous that alone is, the simple comfort of his familiar touch enough to send your eyes averting across the room, trying to control your breathing. 

“What are the favorites and least favorites this week?” he asks, balling up the paper his straw came in. 

Favorites and least favorites is a game you like to play with him. It’s not so much of a game as it is a routine where you tell him your favorite piece of material from your classes and your least favorite. Most people dismiss your major as too peculiar for interest. No one knows what you’re supposed to do with Occult Studies but it fascinates you.

And Vernon, who has always had a keen interest in the goings on in your classes and homework. 

“We’re in the psychology of the occult module.” He nods, eyes fixed on you. “Mostly covering the psychology of community as it relates to the occult. We have sections on covens, clans, actual cults, sects and more modern mass followings.” 

“Hmm. So like… Twitter stans.”

You smile a bit. “Something like that. We covered the maenads in class today. Ever heard of them?” He shakes his head and you lean forward, elbows on the table. “They were women in Ancient Greece devoted to the god Dionysus and they were believed to be possessed by the god. They were said to have wild parties in the woods with one another where they’d do all manner of sordid things, all while under the influence.” 

“A Friday night for Chan.”

“Exactly. A lot of historians call them crazy and speculate they were raving mad, but if I was a woman under the thumb of men in Ancient Greece…”

“Shit, I’d get fucking crazy in the woods with my friends too.”

“Exactly. It was more about reveling in female companionship and being unfettered from the male-dominated societal norms.” 

The arrival of your dinner interrupts the conversation. Both of you lean backward, making room for the hot plates and Vernon’s basket of fries. You slide your feet down from his side of the booth, leaning to grab the red pepper flakes from the corner of the table. He grabs salt, immediately dusting his fries.

“Ugh, you could have at least let me have some first.” He looks up at you through his lashes, brows raised. “They’re already salted, Vernon.”

“Not enough.”

“You know, if you were haunted or possessed you’d never want the salt.” He gives a questioning hum. “Salt is used in purification rituals. It’s believed spirits hate it because it’s used in banishing spells and rituals. It’s why a line of salt keeps them out.”

“Good thing I’m hungry, not haunted.” 

You snort, taking a piece of your pizza from the tray. “Speaking of haunted, are we going to your Halloween party this weekend?”

“My halloween party?”

“You are in the fraternity, Vernon. Yes, yours.” 

He makes a face and tears into his pizza. You shake your head as he lets out a sound, huffing and tilting his head backward as he tries to deal with the too-hot food in his mouth burning him. “Ya,” he says around the slice. “I guess so.” 

“What are you going to wear?” He raises a brow at you, swallowing down the hot bite. You pout, sagging in your seat. “Dude, you have to dress up. You can’t just go in a black shirt and a baseball hat.” 

“Why not?” You kick him under the table and he winces, ducking down to rub at his shin. “Shit, fine. Okay, what do I go as?”

You grin, picking up your appropriately cooled pizza. “Leave it to me.” 

-

“This makeup itches,” Vernon mutters, looking up at you through long lashes. You hush him, putting the finishing touches on the black line down his mouth. “Couldn’t I have gone as something easier?”

“What is easier than black jeans and a jacket you already own, huh? Stop talking, I’m gonna fuck up this line and this makeup is perfect so far.” 

It’s true. You’ve outdone yourself on turning Vernon’s face into a skull, taking inspiration from American Horror Story for the costume. Vernon is a low effort kind of person, so getting him into costume is a lot easier when all it requires are clothes he already owns and makeup that you have to do anyway. 

Stepping away from him, you admire your handy work. His eyes are painted black, hollowed out for the skull. His dark hair is slicked back, the perfect skeleton. He looks… good. Painfully good, which makes you nervous and turn away quickly, heart flipping. You’re not sure what it says about you that Vernon staring at you while painted as a deadly skeleton makes your heart race but… it does. 

“How do I look?”

“Terrifying,” you admit, turning back to him. “But good.” 

He grins and if it were anyone else but Vernon, you’d be terrified. Maybe you did a little too good of a job. 

“What are you again?”

“One of the witches from American Horror Story Coven. Close your eyes, I’m going to use setting spray.” 

Darkness blankets the sky by the time you’re both scrambling down the steps and into an Uber. The driver does a double take when they see Vernon, eyes watching nervously in the rearview as you give him the address. 

“That’s at a closed down gas station.”

“Yep,” you agree, leaning back into the seat.

The driver mutters something about fucking college kids and fucking holiday but otherwise says nothing about the questionable location. He doesn’t need to know that a mile from the abandoned gas station is also an abandoned farmhouse notorious for unsanctioned parties and being distinctly haunted. 

Haunted isn’t your favorite thing in the world. You didn’t like to mess with ghosts, despite your area of study. You were infinitely more interested in the intersectionality of occult studies and modern culture and society and less enthused about the idea of drinking stale beer from a foamy tap in the middle of a murder house. 

If the driver thinks there’s anything weird about other people being dropped off at the gas station - you’re sure he does - he says nothing, ignoring the two of you as you get out of the car and dive into the night air. Vernon is close behind as you take a few steps away from the car, eyeing the old gas station.

The windows have long since been broken and cracked, foggy with time. The stations are stripped of their labels and stickers, just white residue left behind and no pumps. A few people lounge around the building smoking, dressed in a variety of halloween costumes. 

Nervous, you look up at Vernon. His smile is small and he juts his chin toward the dirt road that leads through the woods. Nodding, you both fall into step, sand and gravel crunching beneath your feet as you go. Vernon recognizes a few people associated with his fraternity and others, throwing a casual wave or a nod as you pass by people.

Music echoes down the road. It’s a little less foreboding in the dark trees when you can hear Michael Jackson’s thriller coming down the way and the dull roar of voices. The bend in the road straightens out, the line of trees giving way to flat land. 

The farmhouse is pretty, even in old age. It’s two stories, glowing from within from all of the battery lanterns and lights being used to light the party. A generator roars somewhere behind the house, light flooding the yard where people mingle and crowd the kegs. 

A chill slithers down your spine as you enter the yard, the broken gate doing a poor job at keeping trespassers out. Even with the lighting, shadows dance as you navigate through people, the strange anxiety crawling up your throat worsening as you near the house. 

Vernon pulls the sleeve of your dress so that you’re closer to him, his fingers steady and calm as he leads you up the steps where you can clearly hear Mingyu’s howling laughter inside. 

Bright light fills the house. As do a crush of people and beer pong tables, the abandoned home turned into a raucous display of drinking and debauchery. If you weren’t so distracted by the wave of people pushing you into Vernon’s arm, you might be impressed at how much you could forget the farm home was abandoned because someone had been murdered here. 

“I need a drink,” Vernon announces, continuing to pull your arm after him as he plunges toward what used to be the kitchen.

It’s where you find Mingyu dressed as a lifeguard - and loudly yelling directions. He blows his whistle shrilly when he sees you and Vernon, pointing at the two of you and spitting the whistle out of his mouth to scream, “NOT WET ENOUGH!”

“What a weird way to offer drinks,” you mutter. Chan, who seems to be on lifeguard assistant duty - while dressed in a horrid felt dinosaur costume - scrambles to get you drinks, spilling rum as he tips it over into a cup. “No ice?” 

“There’s not a fridge,” he pouts, shoving the cup in your hand. His eyes drink you in. “Are you a hot goth or?” 

Instead of answering him, you roll your eyes and turn to Mingyu, who blows the whistle again. Both you and Vernon wince, the latter throwing back his drink to chug it all before thrusting the cup back at Chan. “That’s gonna get real tiring.” 

Mingyu comes around the corner of the old island countertop, pumping his fists in the air to the music rattling through the house. “Vernon you look fucking sick!” He and Vernon do the little hand-clap-to-half-hug men do. Mingyu turns to look at you, eyes dark. “Are you like, a hot goth?” 

Your smile is plastic as the whistle around Mingyu’s neck. “Sure.” 

Mingyu, dancing and moving toward the living room, reaches out to you. “Come dance with me! This song fucks.”

“Decidedly not!” 

“Go ahead, Lovecraft!” Vernon urges, pushing you toward the obnoxious lifeguard with a shit-eating grin as he imitates Mingyu’s voice. “This song fucks.” 

Before you can chastise him for egging his fraternity brother on, Mingyu has you sucked into the dancing crowd, throwing his hands in the air as he swivels his way through the crowd. You try to knock back as much of the lukewarm drink as you can, cringing at the burn of cheap rum and not-iced coke. 

Bodies pressed in. Mingyu is close to you, a hand going to your waist. You frown and look over your shoulder, eyes scanning for Vernon. You know he’s probably lingering on the edge of the crowd, watching you with a smirk over the rim of his cup as he watches Mingyu roll his hips toward you.

“Mingyu,” you snap, turning back to him when you don’t find Vernon. “It’s the Monster Mash, it doesn’t require grinding.” 

“I mean, if you wanna graveyard smash…”

“You’re all insufferable! All of you!”

Still, you sway back and forth, trying to stomach finishing the rest of your horrid drink. It takes an effort, but shaking your head at Mingyu and judging him silently gets you most of the way through it until Soonyoung - dressed in the same tiger costume from last year - crashes through the crowd into the pair of you, thrilled when he realizes who it is he has slammed into. 

“Hot goth!” he screams, pointing at your outfit. “Where is your other half?” 

You don’t have to ask what Soonyoung means and both the drink and the accusation have you flushing. You shrug a shoulder, eyes surveying the party. Before either of you can find Vernon, Joshua appears at Soonyoung’s side, leaning to his ear to murmur something. Soongyoung’s face lights up and he grins at you, grabbing you by the wrist to yank you through the crowd. 

“Hello?” you demand, pulling your wrist from his grip. “Have you heard of asking?”

“Come on, I want to show you something.”

“The last time I heard that was promptly followed by you showing me that stupid peach tattoo on your ass.”

“First of all, that tattoo is amazing.” He heads to the stairs, which you eye warily. “Second, Vernon is already upstairs, come on. You like weird ghost shit, you’ll like this.”

Without waiting for a reply, Soonyoung thunders up the stairs. You cringe, waiting for a foot to go through a dry plank and send him falling. It doesn’t happen, though. Tentatively, you creep up the stairs after him, eyes glued to each of the steps as you go. 

It’s colder upstairs, the windows in the rooms open to the elements. You shiver, looking down the hall to Soonyoung heading into a bedroom. You tentatively follow him, stopping at the threshold of the doorway to survey the people inside.

Vernon is one of them, back pressed to the wall near the window, his eyes focused on his boots in front of him, hands tucked into his pockets. A girl next to him dressed as Red Riding Hood is leaning close, speaking to him rapidly. Nothing on his face indicates he’s listening. Then again, his expression is hard to read while painted as a skull, mystifying and dark as you follow Soonyoung down the hall. 

Soonyoung goes straight toward a pile of things on the floor next to Seungcheol’s feet in the corner of the room. The president of Vernon’s fraternity pays Soonyoung no mind, eyes totally focused on the pretty fox in front of him, bottom lip tucked between his teeth. 

Suddenly, the room feels too intimate for you, like everyone is a couple tucked away. You have half a mind to go back downstairs when Vernon looks up at you, dark eyes zeroing in. His face is ten times more intense with the skull paint, pinning you to the spot. 

Everything dulls to the background for a second. You don’t dare breathe, too afraid to shatter the moment as he stares at you, unblinking. His eyes glitter in the darkness of the room, two amber pools reflecting the moonlight. 

Joshua enters the room behind you, shattering the spell as you step out of his way. You turn back to Vernon, clearing your throat. He pulls a hand from his pocket, beckoning you over. Mouth dry, you obey, skittering over toward him quickly as you observe the materials that Soonyoung is sifting through in the corner. Candles. Matches. Salt. A bell. 

“Soonyoung,” you say sharply, slowing your step. “Why do you have ritual materials?”

He looks up at you, his grin wide. “Told you that you’d like this.” 

“What is this?” You turn back to Vernon, who shrugs one shoulder. 

Hesitantly, you take the unoccupied space next to him, casting the girl at his side a cursory glance. She observes your costume. “Are you a hot goth?” 

“Jesus Christ,” you mutter, head thunking against the wall as you watch Soonyoung stand, materials in hand. Vernon coughs next to you, trying to cover his laugh. You glare at him sidelong and he says nothing, but his skeleton mouth is screwed up in a smirk. “What is he doing?”

“No clue.”

Soonyoung walks over to the bedroom door, looking down the hallway before shutting it. You fight a shiver, disliking how quiet the room becomes, cut off from the rest of the world. The window near you is the only source of light, and the only one shut on the second level of the abandoned home. 

“What time is it?” Soonyoung asks Joshua.

“11:45.” 

“Perfect.” Soonyoung spins, eyes falling on you. “Want to talk to a ghost?” 

All eyes turn to you in the room. You open and close your mouth, confused. “What?” 

“Do you want to talk to a ghost? Like someone who died?” 

Your eyes drift to the candle, bell and matches in Soonyoung’s hand. A tingle spreads over your skin and your spine stiffens. “Soonyoung that better not be to invite a spirit in.” 

His grin grows. “Come on, you are the ghost major or whatever. You should be thrilled to do this.”

“Occult Studies. And that doesn’t mean I fuck with the unknown or make a mockery of the dead. We’ve been over this.” 

“It’s basically the same thing, come on. You learn it all in class.” 

“No.” 

He pouts. “You’d be best at it, though. Rumor has it that when the veil is thinnest, you can talk to the spirit that haunts this house.” 

“The murderer? Or the murdered?” Soonyoung shrugs. “I doubt either would be very happy a bunch of drunk college kids are trying to bother them. My answer is no.” 

“Ugh. I was kind of counting on you doing it.” 

“Do it yourself.”

“I don’t study ghost shit!”

“Occult! Studies!”

“Ghost shit,” Soonyoung assures the room confidently.

“I’ll do it,” Vernon sighs, pushing off the wall. “Leave her alone.” 

Soonyoung’s eyes are alight as Vernon steps toward him. You reach out to grab his wrist, pulling him back. “Don’t.” 

“It’s fine.”

“Vernon.”

His eyes are soft when he looks at you. As soft as the terrifying makeup allows, anyway. “It’s fine, Lovecraft. Let me. He’ll stop asking.”

“I’m right here.”

“We know,” you and Vernon say in unison. You feel warm, chewing the inside of your cheek before nodding. You drop his wrist and turn to Soonyoung, eyes hard. “Give me that, you’ll do it wrong. Tell me what the mythos is.”

“What math? You need math?”

“The story, Soonyoung. What is the fucking story of this house?”

“Right. Apparently some dude murdered his girlfriend in here and then hung himself in that closet.” He points to a door you didn’t see when you walked in, dark and far away from the window. “Legend says at midnight, ring the bell three times and step into the closet with a candle. If the candle blows out, the spirit is with you. If it doesn’t, it didn’t work.” 

Grabbing the items from Soonyoung’s hand, you look at Vernon. “When you’re done, ring the bell three times again and say: Thank you, I dismiss thee. Go in peace.” 

“Thank you,” Vernon repeats gently, taking the bell from your hand. “I dismiss thee. Go in peace.”

“Everyone else take candles,” you direct, voice rough with irritation. You glare at Soonyoung and Seungcheol in particular as you shove candles in their hands. “Stand in the four corners of the room. Did you bring sage, Soonyoung?”

“Bring what?”

“Of course not, why would you?” Everyone starts moving to the corner of the room, using matches to light their candles. The room feels unnaturally cold now, despite your long sleeves. Turning back to Vernon, you say, “It’s probably a stupid rumor.”

“Probably.”

“If your candle goes out, just ring the bell, say the words, and dismiss it.” 

“Right.” 

“You don’t have to do it, Vernon.”

His mouth kicks up at the corner. “I’m not worried, Lovecraft. You are.” 

Letting out a breath, you give a laugh that’s only half-there. You are nervous. You don’t like the idea of inviting a spirit into Vernon’s space, and though Soonyoung’s little ritual doesn’t really sound right, you’re not going to correct him. 

Still, you feel unsettled as you light your own candle and then Vernon’s. He cradles it in his hands as you escort him to the door. Tucked under your arm is the canister of salt. Crouching down, you pour the salt in a thick white light in front of the door, careful to ensure that there are no breaks and that it covers the entire entryway from corner to corner.

“Be careful when you step over it and when you open the door,” you instruct, standing up. The candle in your hand flickers unsteadily. “Don’t break the line. The idea is that if Soonyoung’s stupid summoning works, the spirit can’t get through the salt.”

“Banishing and all that,” Vernon recalls with a smile. Your heart flips. “I remember.” 

“Come on, you only have a minute!” Soonyoung calls eagerly. 

Shooting him a glare that silences him, you turn back to Vernon. “Ring the bell three times. Thank you, I dismiss thee. Go in peace.”

“Got it.” 

Unsettled you shuffle back from the door a little bit. You don’t go to a corner of the room like you’ve asked everyone else, unwilling to totally leave him by himself. Heart hammering, you hold your candle in front of you, cradling the warmth like a second heart. 

Vernon is unbothered. You can see it in the loose set of his shoulders and the way he sighs, already tired of Soonyoung’s antics. The party downstairs feels a million miles away as you watch Vernon stand in front of the closed closet door, looking up at it, unimpressed.

“It’s midnight,” Joshua whispers from the corner. 

Vernon doesn’t make any sound that he’s heard Joshua, but he lifts the little bell in his hand. It’s a hand bell, the wood grip worn and cracked. You wonder where Soonyoung got it from, having half a mind to ask him when the first clear ring of the bell disrupts your thoughts. 

The note sings through the air, your blood turning to ice in your veins. It feels like your pulse is throbbing in your neck as Vernon rings the bell hard a second time, the sound chasing the echo of the first. The third ring feels like a tremor in the air, warbling as Vernon quickly sets the bell on the floor, careful not to extinguish his candle flame. 

You hold your breath when he sets his hand on the doorknob. No one makes a sound as he twists it open. He pulls on the door and it comes away with a silent swing. The darkness on the other side is gaping, like there’s no back to the closet, just a wide hole of nothing. 

Vernon doesn’t seem to mind. He steps over the line of salt carefully until he’s in the middle of the closet, pivoting to face you. The orange flicker of his candle casts a haunting glow over his skull face. You swallow down a brief moment of fear before he winks and leans forward to pull the door shut.

For a long moment, there’s nothing. You feel your heart hammering in your chest, the thudthudthud so loud you swear everyone else in the room can hear it. No one moves, everyone fixated on the door. The silence is so piercing that your ears start to ring, the sound of the party completely unreachable over your mounting anxiety. 

“Well?” Soonyoung whispers somewhere behind you. “I guess it didn’t work.” 

Vernon begins pounding on the door. Someone screams behind you followed by a bunch of curses. You leap forward, heart in your throat as Vernon screams something unintelligible on the other side. You drop your candle, completely throwing caution to the wind as you grab the doorknob and twist. 

It doesn’t move.

“Vernon?” you ask, voice spiking with fear. “Let go of the doorknob, let me turn it. Vernon!”

The pounding doesn’t stop. He is screaming in a way you’ve never heard before, his fists rattling the door against the frame. You shriek his name back, yanking at the door frantically, your panic mounting as he screams and- 

When the door opens, you nearly fall backward with the force of it, stumbling over your feet. Soonyoung steadies you, to your surprise. You hadn’t realized he had left his corner of the room to help, his hand warm and firm. 

Vernon stands on the other side of the door, mouth pressed in a firm line. 

“You fucking asshole,” Soonyoung swears, throwing his unlit candle at Vernon. Vernon laughs, dodging it. “You fucking suck.”

“Yeah, well don’t ask me to do stupid shit.” Vernon steps out of the closet, eyes dropping to you. His mirth is edged with something sharp, a glint in his eyes that is wholly unfamiliar. “I was kidding.”

“You fucking asshole!” You screech at him, slamming your hands into his chest and knocking him back a little. He smirks and says nothing, letting you hit him a few times. “Why would you do that to me? What is wrong with you?” 

“Sorry.”

“Yeah, you sound really fucking sorry.” Anger sours your mouth. Turns your words to poison. Your throat tightens up and you feel the telltale sign of tears, equal parts livid, embarrassed and offended that Vernon would do such a thing. “Fuck you, Vernon.”

Someone laughs awkwardly as you storm off. Vernon calls your name but you ignore him, bolting down the hall and down the stairs. The wood creaks uncertainty under your feet but you don’t care. You want to be anywhere but here, the hot lick of embarrassment burning your heels as you go. 

You blow past Chan on your way out, his bleary eyes following you. “Nooo,” he whines. “Hot goth, come back to me!”

“Shut up, Chan!” You scream, slamming down the steps as you go.

People nearly dive out of your way, swiveling to watch the wake of your wrath as you leave the party. You ignore them, not wanting anyone to see the hot tears that spill over as you hit the dirt road, boots crunching. 

It’s hard to tell what’s worse. The fact that Vernon had played a joke on you he knew you wouldn’t like, or the way you had panicked and lost all resolve to be the one in charge. Both feel awful, but the sting of Vernon’s joke is the sharper of the two, cutting you to the quick.

Vernon has never dared to do something like that in your entire friendship. You have no idea why he did it now. Was it because he had an audience? Was he drunk? Was he actually like the members of his fraternity he associated with? 

You had no idea, which only made things worse. Above anyone else, you thought you knew Vernon best. But perhaps, you didn’t know Vernon at all, which was far worse than any sort of haunted spirit you could imagine. 

-

The next morning, you don’t hear from Vernon. It makes your blood boil, a nasty feeling forming in the pit of your stomach as you put your phone on Do Not Disturb. You put on a big set of headphones, blaring music to keep you sane as you set about cleaning your apartment furiously. 

It’s an okay distraction. The lull of clinical cleaning is nice and the music soothes the sting that nips at your heels like an incessant hound. When you run out of things to clean, though, you’re forced to face the fact that it’s nearly evening and Vernon still hasn’t said anything to you.

You don’t want to text him first. Your pride is wounded from the night before and you’re shocked he hasn’t apologized - he should apologize. The silence only makes you angrier, and with nothing left to clean in your apartment, you decide to think of all the things you’re going to say to him when he does finally reach out to you. Because you’re not saying anything first. 

Vernon’s radio silence makes it nearly impossible to sleep. You toss and turn in bed, unable to get comfortable, checking your phone and social media. It’s difficult to remember the last time you went over twenty four hours without hearing from Vernon, and the realization forms a pit in your stomach.

Maybe the silence was good. Maybe you were too reliant on his friendship, the one constant that you had grown far too fond of. Maybe he was into that girl last night, making a show of you because he wanted to make her laugh or maybe he was just putting you in your place.

The insecurity wars with your logic that Vernon wouldn’t do that. He’s never had a history of that kind of behavior before, and though he might tease you on occasion, you have never been the butt of his jokes or the target of his humor. 

Jokes like that aren’t even Vernon’s style. He doesn’t like cruelty, and that’s what pretending to be screaming for help was. It was cruel, and strange and it hurt. 

What hurts more is the silence continuing into a second day. By the late afternoon, though, the hurt has morphed into something else. You sit on your couch, staring at the phone on your coffee table. Your pride was begging you not to text him, but your worry was starting to chip away at you. 

Heaving a sigh, you pick up the phone. The tap of your nails against the glass screen is loud in your quiet apartment, the final rays of sun melting through the blinds while a candle burns on the counter. 

[You 5:14 PM]: So are we not talking? 

Setting the phone down, you immediately start making dinner. It doesn’t matter that you’re too early. You’re nervous waiting for his text back, which makes you feel ridiculous. Then you feel ridiculous for feeling ridiculous, validating yourself that it is totally okay to have feelings and be nervous.

“God,” you mutter under your breath. “I’m exhausting.” 

By the time you’ve had dinner and watched a full episode of Alice in Borderland, Vernon has said nothing. Worry eats away at the lining of your stomach. You pause the show and pick up the phone again, dialing his number.

On the other side of the line, the phone rings. And rings. And rings. 

You hang up when you get the automated voicemail, frowning. It’s all strange, and a nagging feeling tugs at your nervous system but you can’t put your finger on it.

Just as you set the dishes in the sink, your phone starts to ping. You’re grateful no one can see you in your apartment as you lurch to the phone, picking it up and unlocking it to see if it’s Vernon. It isn’t, but your heart starts to thud when your group chats with other friends and classmates in projects flood with the same rumor over and over.

A dead body had been found on campus. 

Vernon doesn’t live on campus, but it doesn’t stop you from calling him again. And again. And again. When the voicemail turns on a fourth time, you seethe into the phone, fingers gripping it so hard it feels like it’ll break. “Call me back you fucking asshole! Someone died on campus and you’re not answering and I just need to know it’s not you. Fuck!” 

Time passes and you get so desperate you do the one thing you didn’t want to do unless it was dire circumstances. You hit dial and bring your phone up to your ear, pinching the bridge of your nose to prepare yourself for when Mingyu answers the phone. 

“Am I dreaming?” he says by way of greeting. “It was the life guard costume, right?” 

“Mingyu, it wasn’t a costume. You were shirtless with board shorts.” 

“But it worked, right?”

“Have you heard from Vernon?” 

“Nah, why?” 

“Like you haven’t seen him at all since the party?” 

“Mmm. I don’t think so.” There’s a muffled sound on the phone like he’s trying to cover it when he yells, “Chan, have you seen that fuck head Vernon?” You wait impatiently, holding the phone further from your ear as Minguy yells. “Chan hasn’t seen him either.” 

“Isn’t that weird? I haven’t been able to get a hold of him.”

“Nah, I mean we never really see him. Usually he’s with you.”

“Right. And he isn’t with me, I haven’t seen him since the party.” 

“Well have you checked his apartment?” You hesitate. “Helloooo?”

“No.”

“Well. Do that. He’s probably sleeping or some shit, who knows.” 

“Great. You were so helpful,” you deadpan.

Mingyu sounds genuinely happy when he says, “I’m so glad!”

You hang up the phone before he can say anything else. 

Chewing your nail, you stare at the wall, mind racing.  Mingyu has a point that it’s normal for them to never see Vernon. He is usually with you, or he’s solitary. There is little in between. He also has a point that most of the time if you were looking for Vernon, you’d just swing by his apartment. 

The thought of seeing him again makes you want to curl in on yourself, but your concern weighs out. You get dressed and grab your keys, trying not to let your fear of what you might find there keep you from leaving. 

Opening the door to your apartment, you get one foot out the door and then slam directly into Vernon. You reel backward, eyebrows shooting up as he steadies you by the elbow, equally surprised to see you as though he wasn’t at your doorstep. 

“Easy there,” he greets, a half smile on his face.

Vernon looks totally normal. He definitely doesn’t look like he was murdered, and he’s dressed in his usual jeans, plain black shirt, and a backwards hat. For a second, you just stare at him, totally shocked and utterly relieved he isn’t dead.

Then, the anger comes. 

You slam a hand into his chest, cursing at him. “Where?” Slap. “Have?” Slap. “You?” Slap. “Been?” 

He takes the blows in stride. His chest is firm beneath your palm, heart beating steadily. Alive. And now that you’ve established he’s not dead, you feel so much anger ripple through you that you don’t let him answer before you’re pivoting on your foot and storming back into your apartment.

The sound of the door closing behind you followed by his shuffling as he takes his shoes off tells you he hasn’t left. A small part of you curls in satisfaction with the domesticity of his arrival, but it is blotted out by the hurt and rage at the surface of your emotions.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You demand. It isn’t as eloquent as your practiced rant, but it’s something. “You better explain yourself. And quickly.”

Vernon’s dark eyes connect with yours, simmering. You feel your heart lurch as he slinks over to the kitchen, never taking his gaze off you. The back of your neck tingles. Vernon never keeps this much eye contact and it’s both thrilling and unnerving. 

“I want to apologize,” he murmurs, pitching his voice low. You watch with trepidation as he reaches out to gather your hand in his. He folds your fingers under his, pulling your hand to his chest. Your breath quickens, pulse throbbing as he cradles your fist to his chest, his heartbeat steady. “I fucked up. I wanted to fuck with Soonyoung but I did it at the expense of you, and for that I’m deeply sorry.”

Warmth spreads from his hand to yours. You don’t know what to make of the apology - it’s so unlike him. Vernon has no problem apologizing when he’s wrong, but he’s usually not so confident, so well spoken. You stare and stare, that pitless gaze of his pinned on you. 

“I just…” You chew the inside of your cheek. “You really hurt my feelings, Vernon.” His hands tighten around yours and he tugs a little, pulling you closer. It’s harder to think when you’re this close, fingers wrapped in his. “You really scared me and then you vanished for nearly three days. Why did you do that?” 

“I wasn’t feeling well and I slept most of the days away. Honestly.”

“You weren’t feeling well?”

He gives you a look. “I see the skepticism. I’m serious, I just… wasn’t myself. I tried to rest and I didn’t hear my phone and I’m sorry. Really.”

Vernon’s apology settles around you like a weight. You watch him, contemplating what to do next. He doesn’t look ill, his gold skin as flawless as ever, his rosy lips tucked under his teeth as he watches you, waiting. His heart thuds under your palm, his thumb absently brushing back and forth over the top of your hand.

Breathing becomes difficult. Vernon isn’t overly affectionate, but the way he presses your hand to his chest now sends you down a dangerous path. The desire for him bubbles just below your surface and you’re terrified it’ll boil over, exposing everything you’ve ever thought about him.

“Alright,” you say softly, pulling your hand from his. He lets you. “Don’t ever do something like that to me again. It was scary and I felt stupid. And I thought you were dead.”

“Why?” 

Gesturing to the couch, the two of you plop down, seemingly back to normal. You’re still a little off kilter, but you report back to Vernon what your classmates had been saying. He grabs your remote and turns on the news, settling close enough to you that your thighs brush against one another. You shoot him a questioning look but he’s fixated on the TV, leaning forward to press his elbows into his knees.

The reporter on the news confirms the body of one of your fellow students had indeed been found on campus. Names and details were not yet available, but they were interviewing students about whether or not they felt safe on campus. By the second interview, Vernon was turning off the TV and leaning back.

“Freaky,” you murmur, tapping the arm of the couch. “Weird timing, right?”

“How so?”

“We just had a Halloween party in a weird murder house.”

Vernon goes silent. You turn to look at him, eyes searching. He stares at you, again the eye contact unsettling. Even though it feels like your Vernon sitting next to you, there is an edge to him that’s new. You don’t know what to do with it, shifting in your seat a little.

“Forget the murder house,” he says eventually, flicking his fingers in dismissal. “That party sucked and I’d rather forget it.”

“Yeah,” you murmur, eyeing him as he looks out the window. You swear he’s agitated, but you can’t pinpoint why. “Me too.”

-

Someone sitting down roughly next to you draws your attention away from your essay, barely audibly over the sound of Current Blue playing through your headphones. You raise a brow as Vernon slings his belongings on the table unceremoniously, uncaring how loud he is in the library.

You glance around, seeing that he’s attracted the attention of a few people at nearby tables, some scowling, others blushing. When you turn your gaze back to him, you see his mouth moving as he divests his bag of its contents, but you can’t hear him. 

Pulling your headphones from your head, you ask, “What?” 

“Can you help me with my organic chem assignment?” 

“I hate chemistry.” 

His mouth twitches as he opens his laptop. “Right, but you’re good at it. You’re the smartest person in school.”

Again, something nags at your instincts. You can’t pinpoint it, examining Vernon more closely. He looks totally normal, dressed in black jeans, a black shirt, and a jean jacket pulled over it. He’s without a hat today, his hair falling in messy strands over his brow as he sets up his area to study.

Sensing your gaze, he turns to look at you, eyebrow raised. “What?” 

“You seem different.”

“Different how?” He types on his computer to start bringing up his chemistry homework. “Different as in going to fail organic chem without your help?” 

“Oh shut up. I’m obviously going to help you.” 

His mouth is wicked when he grins. “Good.” 

When Vernon looks up at you, the world stops a little. His gaze today is fathomless, dark eyes smooth like the surface of a lake with no end. You tip into that gaze, letting yourself drown in it for a moment. Normally, Vernon would break eye contact by now, easily distracted or unrealizing that he’s got you stuck on him. 

Now, he doesn’t do that. He looks right back at you. Heat crawls up your neck and your breaths quicken. For the first time since you’ve known him, Vernon looks at you like he knows everything inside your locked-tight heart. 

You lick your lips and his gaze dips to your mouth. Inside your chest, your hummingbird heart hammers, threatening to break free. The corner of Vernon’s mouth tilts upward as his eyes meet yours again, and you watch, completely frozen, as he leans toward you. 

Vernon is so close you can smell the spicy cologne on his skin. It’s heady and makes you dizzy, and you watch, totally lost as he wraps his hand around the leg of your chair and tugs hard. You yelp, startling a few people around you as he yanks your chair next to his, your thighs pressed together. 

“What are you doing?” you whisper harshly at him, throwing an apologetic look at the people you’ve disturbed for a second time. 

“How are you going to help me from over there?”

“You could have asked me to move my chair.” 

The problem isn’t that he moved your chair. Not really. The problem is how close he is, leg pressed against yours and elbows touching as he shrugs and turns his computer screen toward you. The problem is how at ease he is with you nearly on top of him, his lazy smile making your thoughts tangle and your breath quicken. 

This Vernon is still the one you’re used to but there’s something about him that keeps you on edge. Keeps you looking at him when his hand brushes against yours to grab a pen, or when he leans back and puts his arm across the back of your chair, idly playing with the hood of your jacket.

It’s almost like he’s flirting, and you spend half the time stumbling through his homework, barely able to assist him in a meaningful way because you’re busy decoding the subtle touches and the light teasing. You feel yourself blush more and look the other way to collect yourself more in the hour you help him than you have your entire friendship, unsure what’s happening or how to handle it. 

Homework completed, Vernon stares off into the distance, his finger twisting in the string of your hoodie absently as you try to write the rest of your paper. It’s nearly impossible to concentrate like this, the intimacy more than you’re used to. 

“You’re very distracting today,” you comment as you reference a text to the right of your screen. “Are you aware of that?” 

He hums. “This is hardly a distraction. I could try harder, though.”

You cut a glance at him. He seems utterly serious, any sort of mirth nonexistent in his expression. There’s just that shadowed gaze, that spark of something right where you can’t reach it. You abruptly stand, surprising him as you knock his arm away from you and clear your throat. 

“I need a different text. It’s downstairs, though.” 

“I’ll come with you.” You raise your brows and he shrugs. “I’ve got nothing else to do.” 

“Sure.” 

Without another word, you pivot on your heel and nearly run for the far set of stairs that lead to the subterranean level of the library where all the old texts and books exist. Vernon follows you at a casual pace, still totally at ease despite the fact that you’re obviously unraveling.

You have no idea what his sudden interest in you is and it’s making you unspool, thoughts wild and racing as you reach the stairwell that leads down. 

Damp air greets you as you start down the steps and it smells like wet carpet. You cringe, hating every time you have to come here. It’s always poorly lit and damp, not at all what one would expect from a library trying to keep books from molding. But no one really comes down here anyway, only the history majors and people like you, who require weird books long retired from the main shelves.

It’s eerie in the old stacks. There are lamps above head casting a burnt orange glow over the green, shag carpet but otherwise it’s nearly impossible to see in the shadowy parts of the room. You certainly could never read a book down here. 

Vernon is silent behind you but you can feel him, his gaze burning into your back as you navigate toward the last set of rows. As you approach, you hear a sound, stopping you dead in your tracks. Vernon crashes into you, nearly knocking you over but his hands grab you, steadying you and holding you close to his chest. 

For the first time today, you’re able to ignore his nearness in favor of straining your ears for the sound you heard, a small whimper, perhaps. You hear it again, distinctly human. Your heart starts to pound as you remember that just the day before there was a body found on campus, mind racing with thoughts as you stand rooted to the spot, Vernon pressed against you.

Craning your head, you look up at him. His expression is unreadable as he looks at you through long lashes, face shadowed. There’s a soft bang, like someone knocking something over. He looks over your head and back at you, shrugging his shoulder as if to say your choice. 

Slowly, you move forward. Vernon keeps close, his heat radiating behind you like a furnace as you creep through the last few rows of shelving. As you near the third one, you stop and peer around the corner, eyes trying to adjust in the shitty lighting. 

What you see has you snapping back around the stack, mouth dropping open. Vernon, curious, leans around you to peer around the stack. He raises his brows and steps backward, mouth pressed in a firm line to conceal his laugh. 

In the next row over is a girl you vaguely recognize, naked from the waist down while someone who is very much not her boyfriend, pumps their fingers between her legs. Slapping Vernon’s chest you point toward the door, silently screaming at him to turn around and hightail it out of there. 

Vernon, for a second, bites his lower lip and wags his eyebrows at you, suggestive. You glare and shove his chest. He goes easily, grinning at you playfully as he turns on his heel and heads back up to the main floor. 

When you reach your table, you drop down in the chair, totally shocked. Vernon drops down next to you, laughing. “Listen, when the urge hits, I guess.”

“I guess,” you agree sharply, shaking your head. “That was not her boyfriend, though.”

“No shit?” 

“Yeah. She’s dating some dude in Sigma whatever.” 

Vernon’s gaze turns sharp and his eyes trail back toward the far side of the library, resting on the stairs. “Interesting.” 

“Not really. That seems to happen a lot among you Greek lifers.” 

“I would never do that.” The severity of his declaration has you looking up from your notebook. Vernon’s expression is cutting, his jaw flexing. “I would never participate in infidelity. Ever.” 

“I didn’t mean you, Vernon.” 

“I’m not like that.” 

You soften a little, guilt tugging at you. So often you remember that Vernon isn’t like a lot of the people around him and grouping him in is unfair and insensitive. 

“I know. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.” 

He nods once, turning from you to pack up his stuff. Somehow, you can’t help but feel like you’ve said the wrong thing. 

-

“Oh shit,” Vernon mutters. You look up from where you’re flipping a grilled cheese in the pan. He holds his phone out to you from where he leans against his kitchen counter. “They found another body. Same MO or whatever as the first.” 

“No way?” 

Putting down the spatula, you grab his phone from him where he has the article pulled up. Sure enough, there’s been another murder on campus. Your eyes drink in the details, similar as before: student victim, stab wounds, message written on the wall. 

“What is the Hello Darling Murder?” you ask, more to yourself than Vernon. “It’s linked here as a reference to these being copycat murders.” He says nothing. You read out loud, “The Hello Darling Murder is a case of a murder suicide that happened in the same town in 1979. It was the town’s first violent domestic crime in years, and drew national media attention for the gruesome crime scene in which a message had been written on the wall in blood.” 

Vernon makes an amused sound. You look up at him sharply, staring. He has his arms crossed over his chest, staring at the floor with a mildly bemused expression. You kick him and he looks up at you. “What?”

“Why are you laughing? That’s not funny.”

“The way people sensationalize murder is weird.” 

“I mean, I agree. But what is funny?”

“It’s not funny as in funny ha ha,” he clarifies. “It’s funny stupid. The media is going to sensationalize this and turn it into an entire thing.” 

“Yeah, well. That’s their job.” 

Off put by his dark mirth, you turn back to the article, reading further. You skip over the old murder, more interested in the details of the two new ones. Your heart seizes in your chest when you see the name and picture of the second victim, stomach roiling. 

He sees your expression, pushing off the counter toward you, hands shooting your arms. “What? What’s wrong?” 

In any other scenario, you’d be overwhelmed by the sudden care and affection. Now, you just turn the phone toward him, showing him the photo. “It’s that girl from the library. Her name was Sidney. She’s the one I told you was cheating on her boyfriend.” 

Nothing registers in his face when he looks at the phone, his hands still resting on your arms lightly. He looks away from the screen and at you instead, a sharpness to his gaze that’s there so often you’re starting to grow used to it.

“You’re burning the grilled cheese, Lovecraft.” 

-

Mosquitos nip at your skin as you walk down the narrow path between trees. You slap your hand against your neck again, muttering under your breath. Vernon chuckles next to you, keeping his pace even as you struggle to step over a fallen tree branch. 

You hate the woods at night. It’s not your first time going to a bonfire deep in the woods off campus, but you don’t know why you keep coming back. Tripping over another branch, Vernon catches you by the arm and steadies you, stopping to make sure you’re okay before he lets go.

Scratch that. You do know why you keep coming back. For as long as you’ve been friends, you’ve been Vernon’s permanent plus one to all of his parties, formals and events, even if both of you hate going. It’s become a weird obligation to show up at things like this as a pair. 

They aren’t always terrible, you have to admit. When Mingyu isn’t absolutely hammered, he’s mostly tolerable to be around. Soonyoung isn’t bad either, though you’re still pissed off at him for the Halloween party incident, unwilling to talk to him. 

But nights like this where you have to trek out into the middle of the woods using your phone’s flashlight to navigate, you sort of loathe your unspoken oath to attend with Vernon. 

Instead of focusing on the distaste and the inherent anxiety the shadows of the trees give you, you let Vernon help you slide down a ditch and climb up the other side. His fingers are firm on your wrist, not quite holding your hand but keeping you connected. 

Your skin is warm and tingles when he lets go, deeming it safe enough to let you walk yourself. It’s easier to see now, too, the orange light of the massive bonfire casting a circle of orange glow that only grows as you near the party. 

Party is perhaps too strong of a word for it. There can’t be more than twenty people in the small clearing surrounding the roaring fire the Soonyoung tends to, foldable chairs and coolers arranged in a circle. Chan is trying to roast a marshmallow and failing, the white snack immediately catching fire and singing in the heat of the fire. 

Mingyu whistles when he sees you, catching your attention to wave you over to a pair of seats by him and Chan. You make your way there, navigating through groups of people clutching plastic cups and stepping over various sizes of coolers. 

The heat from Soonyoung’s inferno is nearly unbearable, making you cringe back as he adds something that cracks and pops, sending bits of orange ash floating toward the sky. 

“Jesus Christ, Soonyoung!” Seungcheol complains from his seat where a girl sits on his knee. “Enough, it’s fucking hot!” 

“Sorry,” Soonyoung answers, sheepish. 

Backing your chair away from the fire a little, you sit down and curl into the folding chair, accepting the drink Vernon hands you before moving his chair closer to yours and sitting down. A shiver ripples through you at the cool can in your hands. You crack the top and take a sip, trying to cool down from the blast of heat you’d taken while passing the fire.

Mingyu turns to you and Vernon as Chan pops a burned marshmallow in his mouth, the two of them immediately launching into discussions of the murders. You shift uncomfortably in your chair, listening as they recount the details in the news mixed with the rumors on campus. 

So far, two bodies have been discovered and linked together. The authorities don’t want to call it a serial killer, attempting to avoid a media craze and inspiring the killer to go on a spree, but denying the murders are connected is impossible.

You’re unsure what the victims have in common. The first had been a male senior who was in the business track, discovered by the dorms near the lake on campus. The second had been the girl you’d seen in the library in her apartment off campus, and Sidney had been in the education track and a junior. 

Neither of them were friends. You don’t go to a large university, but there are enough students that it’s normal to have a ton of people that you don’t know. From what anyone can tell, there was nothing the two victims had in common.

Except that they’d been murdered by someone who had left a bloody Hello Darling written at the crime scene.

A chill sweeps over you as Mingyu mentions the Hello Darling Murderer. It was the same story as before - a man had murdered his girlfriend in the 70s, a shocking and violent domestic crime that had unsettled the citizens and local university. He’d promptly killed himself after that, leaving only a bloody Hello Darling on the walls.

Authorities didn’t even know who the blood had belonged to - it took them so long to realize the couple was missing before they did a wellness check that by the time they investigated, they’d been dead a week. 

Vernon snorts at that and mutters something about the ineptitude of law enforcement. You cut your eyes at him. Though you agree, Vernon is usually the last person to make degrading comments - or comment at all really. 

Not for the first time in the last two weeks, you can’t help but sense that honed edge to him he has now. You’ve attributed it to him moving with more confidence, talking to people directly and making actual eye contact. You don’t know where the sudden swell in self-conviction has come from, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t look good on him.

Still, it’s got you a little uneasy, trying to adjust to this version of him. 

The topic shifts to football and you find yourself tuning everyone out, sipping your cider and staring at the fire as it warms your feet. More people arrive and drag chairs up. Someone hauls a few kegs into the firelight, cheers going around the fire.

Vernon stands and holds his hand up for your empty can. You give it to him wordlessly and he heads to get you a refresh, tossing the trash into one of the trash bins.

Turning to Mingyu as he goes, you ask quietly, “Has he seemed different to you lately?” 

“Who?”

“Steve Jobs,” you deadpan. “Vernon, obviously.”

“I don’t think so? He’s around a lot more lately and actually talks to us.” Mingyu pauses, thinking as he cocks his head to the side. “I mean, I guess that is kind of weird for him. He also actually goes to places with us now.” 

“Exactly what I mean.”

“Hey! We are friends, you know?” 

You hum uncertainty, your attention trailing back to Vernon. You observe him, noticing all the little details that are different. He stands a little bit straighter, inserts himself in conversations where he didn’t before.

Now, he stands near the keg, nodding along to something the girl next to him is saying. They’re standing close - you realize it’s the same girl from the Halloween party that had been talking to him, except this time, he’s talking back. 

Vernon leans in close to her and says something, making her laugh. He bites his lower lip a little, watching her with half-lidded eyes. Your stomach turns a little, eyes glued as he brushes her arm when he reaches for the cup that Joshua hands him. 

Turning away from them, you tune yourself into Chan’s conversation, needing a distraction. You try not to count the minutes until Vernon returns. When he does, the girl is with him. He drags a chair over so she can sit on the other side of him. 

It’s close, their knees touching when he sits and hands her the drink he was holding for her. He turns and holds out your drink to you, which sloshes a little when you snatch the cup from his hand. He arches his brows but you say nothing, taking a large gulp and turning your back on him to ask Chan about football instead. 

“You watch football?” Chan asks cryptically. 

“Sure. Go Green Bay Ravens.” 

He stares. “Packers. Green Bay Packers.”

“That’s what I said.”

“Hey, I’m not arguing with you. In fact, if you want to tell me what’s what more often-”

You scoff. “Shut up, Chan!”

Stuck between Vernon flirting with the girl next to him and Chan and Mingyu being - Chan and Mingyu - sours your mood. You try to lose yourself in your cup, going mute as you stare at the fire. Vernon hardly notices the shift in your mood, leaning in to the girl as they chat. 

You can’t help but notice everything about them. It’s impossible not to see the way she leans into him, bumping shoulders when she laughs. He lets her, watching her with a gaze you can only describe as hungry. The grip on your cup tightens as he knocks their knees together when he shifts in his chair, leaving it pressed against hers. 

It reminds you of the way he’d behaved in the library with you, brushing against you on purpose, making his words come out in a playful pur instead of what you’re used to, and seeing him do it with her now makes you snap. 

You stand abruptly, drawing the attention of Chan and Mingyu but not who you want. 

“I’m going for a walk.”

“Need company?” Chan offers. It seems genuine, but you give him a sharp no before you’re walking away, sticks snapping underneath your boots as you go. 

Chill air licks your face as you get further from the fire. There are plenty of people dispersed throughout the general area, some people pulled far away for intimate conversations, others pulled away to pass a joint in a circle, the pungent smell chasing you as you pass them. 

Away from the smoke and the noise, you feel like you can breathe a little more. You find a fallen tree, thick enough to sit on. You test your weight on it first before deciding it’s safe, swinging your leg to straddle it and look off into the dark trees.

There’s just enough light from the silver moon above your head and from the distant fire to feel safe. Wrapping your arms around your middle, you hug yourself and close your eyes, breathing in deep. The fire smoke isn’t strong here, the air clean and crisp.

Opening your eyes, you look at the sky. This far out in the country, you can see the stars. Out of habit, you start mapping out all the constellations you know, eyes tracing Orion the Hunter. You skip over to Andromeda, counting each star before moving to the east to spot Cassiopeia. 

It reminds you of the time you taught Vernon all the different constellations. He’d been a silent and attentive listener, watching as you’d pointed them all out while sitting on a bench at the park. You’ve caught him drawing them more than once in his chemistry notebooks, little dots of perfect constellations memorized. 

An ache you’re familiar with fills your chest. It’s the same ache you had when you realized you had feelings for him but didn’t want to tell him. The same ache you had when he’d hurt your feelings on Halloween. The same ache as when you’d seen him actually look back at someone who's interested in him, for once. 

Crying seems silly, but suddenly you have the urge to, throat twisting as you stare at the sky and try to puzzle out the direction your friendship has gone since that night. As you sit on the tree, a prickling sense of awareness creeps up your spine, tugging at you. 

Looking around, you see nothing. You can generally see in a good circumference, but the sudden instinct that something or someone is watching you drives you to get off the branch, hitting the ground with both feet to stride back toward the fire. 

As you go, your foot gets stuck in a tangle of tree roots again, making you stumble. You curse, bending down through squinted eyes to untangle your foot. Your fingers are a little cold and shaking, anxiety creeping up slowly as you pull the weeds and roots away from your shoe. 

Something snaps behind you. Your fingers freeze, head whipping around to look for the source of the noise. Again, you see nothing but your heart is hammering. You don’t dare to breathe, holding your breath as you strain your ears to hear anything else. There’s only crickets and an owl in the distance, no more snapping branches.

In that moment, it occurs to you that you’ve decided to wander out in the woods at night and alone after two recent murders. The stupidity of your actions land like a blow.

Turning back around, you wrench your shoe free and stand up, nearly colliding with Vernon who leans backward to avoid smacking into you as you shriek in surprise, stepping backward. Vernon’s hand darts out to grab you, catching you and tugging you forward into him before you can lose your balance fully.

Heart hammering, your fingers dig into his biceps, keeping yourself standing as you hiss, “What are you doing?”

“What do you mean what am I doing? You’re wandering out in the middle of the woods while there is an active serial killer in town.” 

“Oh please, like you noticed.”

He frowns. You drop your hands and try to step away from him, eager to put some distance between you. Vernon’s grip on you tightens though, keeping you where you’re standing. “I’m here, I obviously noticed.” You snort derisively and his grip tightens a little. “Is there something you want to say?”

You open and close your mouth, scowling at him. He’s never so direct you’re unsure how to approach the question. So you try for a little bit of honesty. “I wasn’t having fun.” 

“Okay, so let’s leave.”

“You look like you were having fun.” 

Silence hangs in the air. Vernon’s face is indecipherable. Then, “Are you jealous?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

Your response is so fast that it even sounds practiced and hollow to you. It’s hard not to wince, hoping that as always, he doesn’t see through your cellophane defense. Vernon’s touch drops from your biceps to your wrist, delicate. You’re afraid to look him in the eye, instead staring at the buttons on his jean jacket. 

“I noticed you were gone.” His voice is gentle, a low purr. You dart a quick glance at him to see the intensity of his gaze. It makes you squirm, unsure how to respond. “I always notice when you’re gone.”

“Alright. Well.” 

“I notice everything about you.” 

The way he says it is a soft whisper. A promise, a suggestion. Again, it feels like Vernon has discovered your loose thread, tugging lightly on it. If he tugs again, you think you might unspool all the way, showing him everything you don’t want him to see. 

It feels like he wants to, and that’s what scares you more. That suddenly he’s looking at you like he wants to see past the veneer of your words, like he’s ready to look inside. You hear the double meaning. It’s so terrifying that you look away from him, ready to hide. 

“Don’t tease me,” you whisper. 

“I’m not. If you’re not having fun, let’s go home. I came here with you.” He tugs your wrist. “Come on. You can’t be walking around out here alone with a killer on the loose, Lovecraft. I’ll be forced to fight them off.” 

The tension fades. You let out a breath and laugh, looking at him skeptically. “Yeah? You’re going to fight for me?” 

His grip on your wrist tightens. You wonder if he can feel the speed of your pulse under his thumb, the way it hammers when he smirks. “Yeah, I am.” 

-

Sal’s Pizzeria isn’t your favorite place to do school work. It’s too loud and bright, the promise of food is way too distracting for you to focus for much longer than a few minutes at a time, and usually your fingers are too slippery with pizza grease to type properly. 

You only have a narrow window to finish writing your paper before going to the bar for Jihoon’s birthday. You barely know him, but he’s someone Vernon is decently close enough too that you feel obligated to attend. More importantly, you’re finally almost done with your paper you’ve been working on for two weeks, eager to celebrate hitting submit. 

“You know that dude who was killed first was a rotten cheater?” 

The girls sitting behind you catch your attention. Your brows knit together and you turn your head a fraction to eavesdrop, eyes unfocusing on the words on your screen. There are four of them behind you that you don’t recognize but assume go to the same school as you, based on the attire and the backpacks. 

“Yeah! Sam told me about that. Apparently he was sleeping around with a bunch of freshmen. Maybe his girlfriend found out and went all psycho killer on him?” 

“Ew, how scummy. But what’s with the hello darling message shit? Can you say weird?” 

“I know, right?” 

Their words give you pause. The first victim had been someone known for his infidelity too? Turning back to your screen, you pull up your web browser and type in Hello Darling Murderer to the search. The original murder from the 70s hadn’t given you much thought beyond assuming someone was being a copycat, but now you feel something nagging at you. Something you’re missing. 

All of the top stories are of the recent murders. You amend your search to the 70s and get older articles and links to podcasts covering the initial incident. Clicking on a story from a reputable journal, you start reading in detail about the first murder and his victim, skin prickling as you go.

As an Occult Studies major, a lot of people think you’re into murder mysteries. In truth, you’re not. They have little to do with what you study, and you’ve spent countless times telling people that occult and people obsessed with true crime are two totally different things. You have no idea why they’re lumped together so often, but on more than one occasion you’ve had to explain you’re not interested in serial killers or their stories.

Except now. Chewing the inside of your cheek, you unwind the story of Thomas Ellswater, who had apparently murdered his girlfriend at the time before promptly killing himself. The initial investigation hadn’t dug up much, assuming that it was a case of domestic violence gone as bad as it could. 

But the journalist who had written the story had other details. Accounts from family friends that detailed Elsswater’s girlfriend, Maya, unhappy with their relationship. One even insinuated that she had been cheating on him for a long time, though with who, they were unsure. 

Further down in the article, you stop. Read the paragraph again. Look at the picture of the house. A sickly chill coats your skin as you lean forward, taking in the details of the house. You’ve seen it before, though your memory of it at night surrounded by floodlights and full of drunk college students makes it almost unrecognizable when you see it on the screen. 

Thomas Ellswater lived in the same house that you’d partied in on Halloween night, where Vernon had played that horrible prank in the closet. Thomas or Maya had been the haunting spirit Soonyoung had been attempting to summon.

And now someone was killing in the same exact style.. 

The server bringing you two trays of pizzas and a basket of fries breaks you from your trance. You close the article, a sick feeling in your stomach as you try to piece together the puzzle. Was it just a spurned lover who was paying homage to someone who related? Or was it a serial killer poking fun at the MO?

Vernon crashing into the seat across from you startles you. He gives you a grin, eyeing the pizza in front of him and rubbing his hands together. Rolling your eyes, you grab the red pepper flakes and salt, passing the latter over to him. 

“So I learned something weird today,” you venture, pulling a slice of pizza from the tray. 

“Tell me,” he answers over a mouthful of pizza, once again burning himself. You roll your eyes, shaking your red pepper onto your slice. “What is going on in the world of occult today?”

“Actually, not occult.” He gives you an appraising look, popping some fries into his mouth. “What, no salt today?”

He pauses, looking at the basket of fries. “Nah, I need to cut back on the sodium.”

“Good idea. Anyway, it’s about the murders.” 

“Do tell.”

“The girls behind me said the first victim was known for cheating.” 

“It’s college. Apparently there is a lot of that.” 

“But remember that day we saw Sidney in the library? She was cheating too.” 

“Right.” He rips into his pizza, gaze sharp as he looks at you. “So this town is full of a bunch of lowlife fucking cheaters.”

You flinch at his vehemence, leaning back in your seat. Vernon drops his gaze, tearing into his slice in silence. “Sorry,” he says after swallowing. “I’m hungry.”

“Right. As I was saying, I looked up that Hello Darling Murder.” 

He pauses, gaze flicking to you. “And?”

“And it was ruled as a case of domestic violence gone wrong, but there were some people who think the Maya Caravalo was cheating on Thomas Ellswater, who killed her.” 

“I’m sure cheating is the leading cause of crimes of passion.”

“In the house that we were in on Halloween.” 

Vernon frowns. “Ah. Weird.” 

He doesn’t elaborate. You watch him as he chews on more pizza, shoving fries into his mouth on occasion too. He seems totally at ease - and more normal than he’s been in weeks. You watch, mildly disgusted at the way college men eat. 

“That’s all you have to say?” You ask. “Weird.”

“It is weird.” 

“Kind of an insane coincidence.” 

He becomes still, only his eyes moving as he settles his inky gaze on you. For a second, you can’t help but think he looks a bit like the cat who ate the canary, eyes glittering. “So tell me what theory is in that pretty head of yours, Lovecraft.” 

Ignoring the way your heart leaps at him calling you pretty, you sigh, picking at the wooden table with a thumb nail. “I don’t really have one. I just think someone came across the original murder and thought I could write that at my crime scenes. I don’t study criminology, I can’t figure out motivation.”

“You’re the smartest person in school, Lovecraft. Try.” 

“I guess… I don’t know. The new killer was probably cheated on recently, came across what happened in the 70s, and has been taking out their rage on other adulterers because they feel some sort of kinship with Thomas. Maybe like finishing his work or ridding the world of a common enemy.” 

Vernon hums. “Maybe so. Do you think they deserve it?” You look at him sharply, mouth downturning. “The victims. Do you think they deserve to be killed for their infidelity?” 

“I don’t know that anyone is deserving of murder.” You chew the inside of your cheek, watching Vernon’s face for any sign of what he’s thinking. He’s totally closed off, a blank canvas. “This is why I’m in Occult Studies and not law, Vernon.” 

He gives a wolfish grin. “Touche. Come on, eat your pizza. We have a bar to go get drunk at.” 

-

The bar in question is teeming with people. You’re immediately overwhelmed, squeezing your way between chairs, tables and people as you navigate to your group of friends. Vernon keeps you close, his arm encircling your waist as pulling you to him as you go. 

He either ignores or doesn’t notice the sharp look you give him. Instead, he’s focused on keeping the two of you attached, shouldering his way through the crowd, the press of his fingers on your hip dizzying and steadying at the same time. 

At the far back of the bar, an entire section of people associated with Vernon’s fraternity crowd from wall to wall. Vernon manages to get you onto a stool at the bar top, shouldering one of the pledges off the seat with a narrow-eyed look. You raise your brows at him and he winks, leaning his elbow on the bar top to order you both drinks.

Spinning to face him in the stool, you give him a quick once over. You’d been so engrossed in your murdery mystery findings at the pizzeria that you haven't really looked at him until now. He looks good, dressed simply in dark jeans and a dark, long sleeve shirt that shows how broad he is. Has he always been that broad? 

Vernon catches you staring. “What are you looking at?” 

“Nothing.” 

He grins, accepting drinks from the bartender and sliding one over to you. You burn under the full weight of his attention as he pops his straw into his mouth. “Tell me.” 

“You look nice tonight.”

“You look nice every night.”

“Oh shut up.” 

“What?” he laughs. “I mean it.” 

“Whatever.”

Spinning in the chair again, you place your back to the bar, facing the crowd to watch people. Vernon is content to stand next to you in silence, both of you sipping your drinks as you observe the people around you. Someone jostles him a little closer, his arm shifting to lay across the bartop along your back. 

Heat creeps into your cheeks and you try to remain breathing normally. Vernon leaves his arm there, pressed against you but not exactly wrapped around you. There is a distinct difference, but this is still new. Still confusing. 

People who recognize you both come up and say hi. You keep the conversation polite and short, especially when you see the girl who has lingered at the last two parties slink toward you, her eyes only for Vernon. 

“Hi,” she yells over the crowd, totally ignoring you. “I didn’t expect to see you tonight!”

“Why wouldn’t you? I’m friends with Jihoon.”

The girl opens and closes her mouth, lips pursed at that. You sense the serrated edged to Vernon’s words, casting a glance his direction. He’s not looking at her, eyes instead scanning the crowd. Uninterested. Even you know she didn’t literally mean she wasn’t expecting to see him - it was just a conversation starter. 

Using the opportunity to sip from your straw to hide your laughter, you have to admit you’re a little relieved to see Vernon missing social cues again. It’s more him, a Vernon that you're used to. Maybe a little meaner than usual, but this is closer. 

“Right,” the girl says. Her eyes flicker to you for the first time. “It’s his birthday, right?” 

“According to the giant sign in the corner and all the balloons, yes.” 

Okay, maybe it’s not entirely normal Vernon. Usually he isn’t so callous. In this case, you don’t mind, watching as she tries to puzzle out how to keep the conversation going. Vernon decides for you, turning from her to press his mouth close to your ear. 

“I’ll be right back,” he murmurs, breath hot against you. “I’m gonna greet Jihoon really quickly.” 

All you can manage is a breathy, “Alright.” 

Vernon finishes his drink and pushes off the bar, fingers dragging against you as he goes. He ignores the girl standing and watching, her eyes darting from you to him until he vanishes in the sea of bodies. Without Vernon there, she has nothing to do. She tilts her chin up, sucking up her pride and turns on her heel to walk a direction distinctly not the same way as Vernon.

Alone at the bar, you swivel in your seat to order you both another drink. You assume Vernon is drinking a whiskey coke, hoping that’s right as you flag down the bartender. While you wait, someone slips into the spot next to you. You turn, thinking Vernon’s already back only to find someone you definitely don’t know. 

“Sorry,” he shouts over the loud voices and music. “Did not mean to get in your personal space, this spot was way smaller than I thought it was.” 

“That’s okay! Getting a spot kind of sucks.”

“No kidding.” He grins at you, turning his attention back to trying to get anyone to take his drink order. “How long do you think it’ll take for them to notice me?” 

“About seven years.”

“Yikes. I’m Seokmin, by the way.” You give him your name and he grins. “What brings you to this shit hole ass bar?”

“A friend of a friend's birthday. You?”

“A friend of a friend's birthday indeed.”

A bartender finally comes over to take Seokmin’s order. He leans forward to shout over the crowd, his shoulder knocking into yours. You don’t mind - he’s nice. He looks over at you, a question on his face. “You like tequila?”

“No!”

“Let me rephrase - want a shot of tequila?” 

“She doesn’t.”

Vernon slides behind you, his palm pressed flat to your back. You startle, looking up at him in surprise. He isn’t looking at you, his eyes zeroed in on Seokmin. You slide Vernon’s drink toward him, eager to dispel the sudden tension thrumming through him.

“Whiskey and coke?”

He looks down, eyes rounding out a little as he softens. “Mhmm. Thank you.”

Drink in hand, Seokmin turns to you both and waves. “Y’all have a good night!”

When he’s gone, Vernon leans against the counter again, his tone flat as he says, “He was nice.”

“He was, but what do you sound bothered by it?”

“Maybe I am.” 

“Why?” 

He lifts a shoulder. Instead of answering you, he picks up the lime in his drink and squeezes it, stirring it with his straw before taking a long pull straight from the rim of the glass. 

You nudge him. “I’m going to say this again: you’ve been different, lately.” 

“Different how.” 

“I don’t know. You talk more. You’re a lot more engaging. You’re a little…” 

“A little what?”

“Cockier?” He hums, eyes dropping down to your mouth. “Like that,” you point out, voice a little weaker. “You do that now, and you didn’t used to.”

“I always did. I’m just a little more obvious about it now.”

Tension crackles between the two of you. Your mouth feels dry as you watch him, reading the minute expressions of his face. Finally, when you can’t unpuzzle him, you say, “I don’t know what you’re doing.”

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t tell if you’re coming onto me or if it’s some sort of game to you.” That makes him frown as he sips his drink again. Your fear and frustration clash, wrestling for dominance. “It makes things confusing.”

“Why didn’t you say so? I’m happy to clear things up.” 

You grip your glass, trying to keep your fingers from quaking. This moment feels like it’s all or nothing. Vernon puts it out on the table so easily, leaving the option to you. Either you can ask for clarity, or keep playing this new game of cat and mouse. But you have to decide. 

“I would appreciate it if you did,” you say eventually. 

Vernon nods and finishes the rest of the drink. He sets the glass down before he leans forward, hand going to the underside of your chin to lightly tip your face upward with his knuckle so he can press the world’s most gentle kiss to your mouth. 

You freeze. When he doesn’t pull away, lips soft and warm, you sigh into the kiss, eyes fluttering shut. He feels you relax, mouth curling in a smile against yours. He steps into your space without breaking the kiss, finding the space between your legs as his lips press firmer to yours. 

Vernon smells like his cologne and something distinctly him. It makes you dizzy, and the way he tastes like whiskey and lime makes the room spin. When he pulls away from him, you feel like you’re going to fall from the stool, leaning toward him. 

His hands grip your thighs, squeezing generously as he leans in and drags his mouth to your ear. “Does that clear things up?” 

“Actually, no?” 

His groan is throaty, turning into laughter as he buries his face in your neck. Your hands tentatively settle on his waist, a little hesitant. “I always said you were the smartest person at school, but maybe not.”

“Hey!” 

“Come home with me.” He feels your delay, laughing. “Come home with me because I like you. Is that clearer? Because I want you to come home with me, and I don’t want anyone else here.” 

Your heart goes bolting like a rabbit, running in circles. Vernon pulls away from you to study your face. You watch him for any sign that he’s kidding, that he doesn’t mean it. You find none. In its place, you only see honesty. Hunger. Fiery desire burning at the surface. 

“Really?” Your question is small. Vulnerable. “Do you mean that?”

“I do.” He tugs on your thighs. “I’m not playing games with you. Come home with me - I’ll prove I’m serious about you. You are what I want. I just had to be sure.” 

Lightheaded and heart slamming, you let Vernon pull you from the seat and lead you out of the bar. 

-

Vernon’s apartment on the north side of town is a place you’ve been a million times. You recognize all the cars in the parking lot, and you know exactly what building and floor belongs to him. You even recognize his neighbors come in mat that you’ve always hated. 

He catches you staring at it with distaste now, laughing as he shakes his head and inserts his keys. “You and that mat.”

One hand works the keys into the door while the other is stretched behind him, fingers linked with yours. Your hand is warm and your heart is still racing as he gets the door open, pulling you inside the dark of his home. 

“They could be inviting anything in,” you assert, a little breathless as he pulls you to his chest. He kicks the door shut, the frame rattling as it slams. “You should never have a doormat that just welcomes whatever shows up at your door inside. You could end up with a vampire in your home.”

“A vampire, huh?” Vernon ducks his head towards your neck, lips skimming your throat. Your fingers twist in the hem of his shirt, eyes fluttering closed as his teeth scrape against your pulse point. “Sounds scary.” 

“It is. There’s nothing to disprove that vampires exist.” 

Vernon bites down and you whine, melting into him. His laugh vibrates through his chest as his tongue presses to the bite mark, soothing the pain. His mouth closes over the spot and he sucks gently, sending a shiver through your body. 

“I promise the only thing biting you will be me.”

The full weight of his words hit you between the legs. You feel like putty in his hand as he navigates you to the island counter in his kitchen. He presses your back into it, careful not to jam you too harshly against the marble. 

Heat licks through your stomach as Vernon steals your lips in a kiss. It’s different from the gentle one he gave you at the bar. This one drinks you in, pries you open and lets you spill out into him, all the feelings and bottled thoughts you have free for the taking.

You get lost in him, hands wrapping around his neck to pull him close, fingers sliding through his hair. He moans and you respond, curling your fingers to scrape your nails against his scalp. His hips twitch forward, pinning you between him in the counter as he sucks your bottom lip harshly. 

“Be careful,” he warns, a hand drifting from your chin to your neck. He doesn’t wrap his fingers around your throat, but his hand rests there, heavy and wanting. “I’m trying to be gentle.” 

You steal a kiss, nipping his bottom lip sharply. “Don’t be.”

His resounding groan makes you dizzy. His kisses become rough and heated, using his tongue as much as his teeth. He presses you hard into the countertop now, the marble digging into your back as he nearly folds you in half with the weight of his body. 

It feels like the air has left the room. Vernon is the only thing you need to breathe in, fueled by the way his tongue licks into you, the gentle squeeze of his hand at the base of your throat. His fingers press against your pulse, not enough to cut off any airflow but enough to send a bolt of pleasure and thrill through you. 

“You have no idea,” Vernon pants, pressing sloppy, wet kisses to your jawline. “How long I’ve waited to do this. I could have had you this entire fucking time, but I held myself back.” 

His thumb presses under your jaw, angling your head to the side. With more access to your throat, he peppers you in bites and kisses, tongue soothing each sting. “I have wasted so much time,” he mutters, almost like he’s talking to himself. “Being a fucking coward.”

“Don’t say that,” you gasp as his other hand presses between your legs. The ache in your cunt is already throbbing, and he does nothing but make it worse by adding pressure but doing nothing more. “Please don’t tease me.”

“I’m not.” He pulls away from you. Before you can complain, he gives you a quick kiss, tugging you toward his room. “I shouldn’t have waited until I had a little… encouragement to do this. I’m going to give you everything you want, love.”

A quiver slithers down your spine at the shortened version of your nickname. The new endearment hits home when you see the way he looks at you, the want and desire more unrestrained than anything else you’ve ever seen on his expression. 

Hand in yours, he pulls you into the bedroom, spinning you to sit you down on the edge of his bed. You look up at him through your lashes, admiring the shape of his face and the way you can just barely see his freckles in the soft glow from the nightlight in his bathroom as he slots himself between your knees. 

“I’ll give you whatever you want,” Vernon whispers, voice like velvet. He slides a finger under your chin, tilting your gaze even higher as he watches you, eyes blown. “I’m entirely devoted to you and you only. You know that, right?” 

Vernon’s thumb pulls at your bottom lip. You open your mouth on instinct and he growls low in his throat. He pushes his thumb past your swollen lips, pressing down on your tongue. You taste the lime from earlier and the hint of salt on his skin, closing your mouth as you suck gently. 

“Fuck,” he swears, thumb pressing harder. “You really have been a little slut for me this entire time, huh?” 

Hearing Vernon say it in that deep, whispered voice of his does something to you. There’s a note in his voice you’re unfamiliar with, a dangerous edge that you want to lean into and cut yourself on. So you nod, lashes fluttering as you bat them up at him. 

“Yeah, thought so.” He pulls his thumb from your mouth, dragging it spit-slicked down your chin. “Lay back on the bed for me, love.” 

You do so immediately, shuffling backward so that you can lean back. The sheets smell like him and you tilt your head to the side, nuzzling his comforter a little. You try to ground yourself, feeling a little staticky as he kneels on the bed, mattress dipping. 

Vernon plants a knee between your legs, leaning forward to cage you in with a hand on either side of your head. His kiss is all consuming, any sense of delicacy gone. You let him devour you, your hands pulling at his belt loops to bring him closer.

He’s not close enough, never close enough. 

Having him like this is everything you’ve ever wanted and more. He’s familiar, the scent of him and the warmth of his skin and the little sounds he makes but he’s also entirely new. He is rougher than you imagined, sharper than you thought. He drags his blunt nails over your collarbone as he pulls your shirt away from your neck, giving his mouth access to litter your skin with kisses. 

Your hands slip under his shirt, curious as you press the pads of your fingers into his stomach. You feel the muscles flex and he hums low in his throat, enjoying your exploration as you slide your hands around the perfect taper of his waist to the small of his back. 

Vernon slides his knee higher, pressing it directly to your clothed cunt. You twitch against him, a questioning sound leaving your lips as you breathe in sharply. 

“Go ahead,” he mumbles against your chest, one pulling sharply at your shirt. You hear the seams rip and you don’t even care. “Take what you need, love.” 

The rawness of his words fucks you up. You do as he says, rolling your hips against his thigh for any sort of pressure and friction. It helps relieve the tension a little, but not nearly enough. Your breathing turns ragged as he harshly bites and kisses his way to your bra. 

Yanking hard, he rips the rest of your shirt. You let out a throaty laugh and he looks up at you, eyes like burning coals. “What’s so funny, hmm?”

“I did not expect you to be able to rip my shirt.” 

“Oh?”

The dangerous note in his voice makes your hips stutter and stop. He runs the tip of his tongue around the soft curve of your chest, watching you all the while and fuck. If you’d realized that this was the type of Vernon you’d get, maybe you’d have been braver sooner. Because this Vernon is something else, confident and cocky and ravenous. 

“Want me to rip this too?” He teases, teeth pulling at the cup of your bra. Your chest rises and falls as you try to catch your breath, a little overwhelmed. “Say the word.”

“Maybe salvage some of my clothing, Vernon.”

“Fine. I will not salvage you, though.”

You believe him. Nothing about the way Vernon peels your bra off of you is gentle. Nothing about the way his hand cups your breast, squeezing before he lowers his mouth to give a generous suck to your nipple feels like he has your survival in mind. 

Squeezing your eyes shut, you let Vernon have his way. It feels like he’s peeling you open layer by layer, plucking every string connected to your pleasure that he can find.

His mouth is a weapon, tongue lazily circling your pert nipple until you’re whining and squirming under him. He laughs and drags his tongue to the other side of your chest, licking his way to your peak to tease you further. 

“Shit,” you whisper, one hand leaving his back to tangle in his hair. You don’t know if you’re pulling him away or pushing him closer - maybe both. “Vernon.”

His teeth scrape your nipple and you whine. He shuts you up by closing his mouth around you, sucking sharply. When he pulls away with a loud pop, you let out a shaky breath. 

“You can barely keep it together,” he observes. He placed closed mouth kisses on your stomach as he descends, pulling his knee from between your thighs. “What are you gonna do when I eat you out, huh?”

Flushed and embarrassed, you cover your face as his tongue licks the skin above your jeans. “Cat got your tongue, love?” 

“You - you’re - ugh!”

He chuckles, popping the button of your jeans. “I’m ugh?” 

“You know what I mean.” 

Vernon tugs on your jeans. You try to lift your hips to help him, but your thighs are like jelly already, turning you useless. He coos at you, pressing a kiss to your hip gently. “I got you.” 

Unsure if he means about your inability to get out your fucking pants or he understand what you mean, you let him peel them down the rest of the way. His hands skate up your calves, squeezing and firm as he sinks to his knees on the floor. 

Bracing yourself, you brave a look between your legs where he presses your thighs open gently with his palms. Veronon’s eyes are on the apex of your thighs, entirely focused on where your underwear stick to your folds. He licks his lips, hand brushing up and down your thighs. 

His gaze flickers to you. For a moment, the two of you just stare at one another. You feel overly exposed, naked from the waist up, cool air pebbling your spit-slicked chest. The weight of his gaze presses you down like a physical thing, but it’s comforting. Warm. Reassuring. 

The air is charged between you as he keeps watching you while he drags a hand up and between your legs. He presses a thumb between your folds and you whimper, feeling the way he prods at your aching entrance, only the thin fabric keeping him out.

“Are you always this wet for me?” he asks, thumb slowly dragging up the damp patch to your clit. He digs in sharply, pressing firm enough that your pleasure spikes and your hips pop off the bed. He hisses at you and smacks your thigh, making you lower your ass to the bed again. “Everytime we were together, did you get like this?” 

It takes effort to rasp, “Sometimes.”

Vernon hooks his thumb in the side of your pants, pulling. The fabric peels back achingly slow, cool air hitting your cunt and making you whine. He hums thoughtfully, placing the fabric to the side.

“Like what times?” he questions, blowing cool air against you. You thrash and he laughs, pinning you down by the hips. “I’m curious. Elaborate for me.” 

“Umm.” 

It’s the only word you can get out before he renders you speechless, the flat of his tongue sliding slowly up your pussy. You go boneless, breath stuck in your chest as his tongue lazily circles around your clit and drags back down. He repeats the motion, the slow-soft brush of his tongue driving you insane instantly. 

“You’re not elaborating,” Vernon notes. He presses a kiss that is far too sweet for the moment to your bundle of nerves. “I wanna know all the times you were with me where you felt like this. Go on.” 

“I don’t,” you breath catches when his tongue curls through your folds. He’s soft and slow as he licks you, a lazy smoothless to it that makes you see stars. “Know how to speak when you’re doing that.” 

“Should I stop?” 

“No.”

“Try,” he murmurs, dipping his tongue in your dripping entrance. “I want to know.” 

Fuck. Trying to pull together any coherent thoughts is like wading through thick water. You’re distracted by the way Vernon’s mouth closes on you, sucking gently. He takes his time, fingers pressed into the meat of your thighs as he keeps you open, enjoying you fully. 

“I - shit - I guess sometimes when we go out,” you manage. “I like when you wear your hat backwards.” 

He flicks his tongue back and forth over your clit, making you clench, toes curling. His mouth is wet and warm, closing around your throbbing bundle and sucking gently. Your hips lift but his grip is firm, keeping his mouth to you. 

When he pulls away, the suction is audible, a string of spit and arousal connecting his lips to your pussy. “Taste so fucking good,” he whispers. You think it’s more to himself than you, his tongue carving through you again. “Tell me more.” 

“Halloween night. When you were in skull makeup.”

His tongue starts circling your clit again, the indirect stimulation driving you wild. Your hands tangle in the sheets, sweat slicking your skin as Vernon works to firmer motions. You realize he knows exactly how you like it, gentle to start, working you to firmer motions, a little hungrier. 

It makes him all the more lethal, the way he can just figure you out like that. “Yeah?” he asks, sucking harshly against you. “Wanted me to fuck you like that?” 

“God, yeah.”

“You should have asked. I’ll fuck you however you want.” 

“Didn’t think you liked me.” 

Vernon is too busy to answer, increasing the attention of his mouth. Your hands slide down to his, nails digging into the tops of his hands where he holds you. He lets go of your hips in favor of linking your fingers, pressing your clasped hands to the mattress. 

His name drips from your mouth, eyes falling shut as you sink into the pleasure deep in your stomach. He makes little sounds of pleasure, grunting and groaning as his mouth becomes more fervent. You feel yourself toeing the edge of an orgasm, so so so close.

He can tell too. He finds a harsh rhythm, pulling you closer and closer to your high with each sharp suck of his lips. You twist in his grip, fingers squeezing his so hard you think you might break his hands. You don’t, feeling your breath catch and hold as you come hard, thighs squeezing as you writhe on the bed.

You draw in a ragged breath, desperate for air as he kisses your cunt once. Twice. His slick mouth presses against your thighs, teeth dragging against soft flesh as he mouths his way to your knee. He gives you a moment, letting you pant against the sheets. 

Fabric sticks to your skin as you wiggle against the bed. He stands up, crawling up you again to find your mouth. You lean forward, catching him in an open-mouth kiss that is more tongue than anything, your taste heady in the heat of his mouth. 

“Turn over on your stomach for me,” he groans. His hands squeeze your side as he gives you room to follow his direction. You do, but not without his help, your orgasm making you a little clumsy. “Can you get on your knees for me?”

“Maybe?”

“I’ll help you in a second.”

Instead of moving, you lay slumped on the bed, fully intending to let him do the work. You turn your head to watch him pull his shirt off, revealing firm, tan skin. Vernon is beautiful, the sleek lines of his body reminding you of a painting. He kicks off his jeans before shuffling back on the bed behind you, looking down and snorting.

“Didn’t want to move like I asked?” You shake your head. He pats your ass lightly. “Come on, darling. Help me get these panties off or I will rip them off.” 

Huffing, you do as he says. He does lend you his strength hauling you up by the arm as you lean up on your knees. The room is cold, making you shiver but he presses your back to his chest, mouth dusting kisses over your shoulders. 

Vernon’s fingers dance along your sides until he’s pulling your underwear the rest of the way down your thighs, helping you kick out of them. When he’s got you full naked, he presses your back to him, crowding your space as he angles your head to kiss you slowly. Fully. 

Behind you, his cock presses firmly into your ass. You push back against him, putting pressure against his shaft. He hisses, biting your shoulder harshly. 

“Careful,” he growls, teeth at your neck. “Or I won’t be very nice.” 

“Want you, though.”

“You’ll have me when I say you can.” 

One of his hands slides up to your neck, gripping your throat lightly. He pauses, leaning to catch your gaze. His eyes are round and soft. Honest. Open. “This okay?” He questions gently. He gives a little squeeze to indicate what he means. You nod eagerly, reaching a hand to close around his, making him press harder. “Fuck you’re perfect.” 

You lean your head back against his chest as he holds you by the throat, one of your hands dropping to his elbow, the other reaching behind you to sink your fingers in his hair and tug. The sound he makes is feral, the hand he has placed on your waist dropping between your legs, fingers pressing between them. 

“Oh,” you squeak, feeling his deft tough on your clit. His movements are aided by your earlier release, fingers circling smoothly as he squeezes your throat, thumb pressed perfectly, to make it just a little harder to breathe. “Shit.” 

“Can you tell me a safe word? Not gonna go hard, just wanna know if it becomes too much.” 

“Maenad.” He snorts and you huff. “I just wrote an essay on them, don’t start.”

He laughs, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “Alright. Just please use it if it’s too much - any of it. If you can’t talk, pat my arm, alright? Just wanna do this right.” 

You nod, so in love with him it takes all of you to stop yourself from blurting it. 

Vernon shuffles behind you, letting you tilt forward a little. The hand between your legs leaves and he instead brings it behind you, prodding at your pussy with his fingers from behind. You let out a loud sound and you can almost feel his grin as he presses a finger into your heat. 

He’s slow at first, the same way he was with his mouth. He explores what you like, testing the way his fingers drag against your walls combined with different grip strengths on your throat. You feel light headed. The room spins as he finds a rhythm that draws the most noises from you, that makes you clench down on his finger the most. 

All of your weight is against the hand around your neck, barely able to hold yourself up as he presses another finger in. This time, his fingers prod right against that soft spot inside of you, making you see stars. He must realize he’s found it, because he starts finger fucking you in earnest. 

The grip on your throat loosens a little, careful not to keep you short of breath for too long as he works your cunt with his hand. His lips find your shoulder, peppering you with light kisses that are delicate and butterfly soft in comparison to the way his fingers fuck into you. 

“Vernon,” you whisper, only able to think of his name. “Vernon vernon vernon.”

“Doing so good, darling,” he whispers against your skin. He kisses his way to your ear, sucking the sensitive spot on your neck. “So fucking good for me.” 

His words hit below the belt. You shudder in his hold, letting him drive you toward another release. You never imagined Vernon to be talkative in bed, but he is, his voice like velvet. Just like that. Perfect for me. There you go, come on. 

Everything about him is perfect, driving you to mania. His grip on your throat tightens suddenly, sensing how close you are to your second peak. Your breath quickens until you can’t breathe, going mute against him as his fingers press hardly into that spot over and over and over.

A high-pitched ring winds in your ears. You hold and hold and hold and when Vernon lets go of your throat, a gust of air flooding your lungs, you shatter around his hand. You collapse backward against him, head knocking into his. You don’t even care, twitching and gasping against him as his hand stills. 

For a few moments, you just lean against him like that, sweaty and lost and in a dream. Slowly, you become aware of his pounding heart against your back and the slick between your thighs. Vernon’s mouth is pressed to your shoulder, waiting patiently as you blink a few times, the room swimming into view.

“Hi,” he murmurs, watching you with shadowy eyes.

“Hi,” you croak, voice rough.

“Good?”

“Very.” 

“Want to stop?”

“No. Unless you want to.”

His gaze darkens. “I don’t.” 

“I want more. I can take more.” 

He lifts his head and presses a sweet kiss to your temple. “You’re perfect for me. Do you know that?” 

Reverent hands help you lay back against the pillows. Vernon touches you like you’re something delicate - not because he thinks you’re fragile, but because you’re something important to him. Valuable. You see it in the way he looks down at you, taking a moment to drink you in. 

There’s something else there too. Something edged with a knife, a little wild. Covetous. There is something in the way Vernon grips your leg briefly, a language he’s trying to communicate to you with touch. 

Mine, it says. Mine and no one else's.

With hooded eyes, you watch him peel his briefs off. Your eyes shoot to where his cock hangs heavy, beads of precum dripping at his tip. You reach a hand up toward him but he shakes his head, careful as he shuffles toward you.

“Later,” he promises. “I like touching you.” 

“I want you to feel good.”

“You make me feel good. Seeing you unravel makes me feel good. I like seeing how much you enjoy me touching you.”

You can tell he means it. His lips are swollen and soft when he kisses you. You open your legs open for him, letting him settle between the softness of your thighs. Vernon runs the head of his cock through your messy fluids, earning a whine for you.

“Sensitive?” he asks against your lips, nose nudging yours. You nod and you feel him smile. “Sorry.”

“Feels good,” you assure him, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “Want more.” 

“Greedy thing.” 

“I’m Your greedy thing.”

Your words have the desired effect. You feel a shiver ripple through him, Vernon’s grip on your leg turning to iron as he opens you up wider. He presses his cock into your entrance slowly, pausing just as the tip pops in. You throb around him, whispering his name - begging him to keep going. 

Vernon’s grin is sharp as he sinks in further, the slide tortuous and wonderful and so much as he finally finds home, hips pressed as far as he can go. He stays like that, tangling your tongue in a messy kiss as he sits there, fully seated in your heat. Your pussy spasms around him, pressed open to the max. 

“Feels so good,” he whispers, dropping his forehead to yours. “I’m going to come embarrassingly fast.”

“So do it.” You wrap a leg around his waist, your hips tilting upward. Both of you moan at the angle change, so close to breaking. “I wanna see it.” 

Instead of answering, he nods. He drags his hips backward slowly before slamming back in. He punches the breath out of your lungs with each slide home, the stroke slow but deep. Your head falls to the side, breaths rasping as he sets a steady, slow pace. 

It feels good, your legs curling around him to keep you close, hands tangle in his hair to keep him tethered to you. His hair is damp with sweat, your fingers curled in the strands, tugging a little. He seems to like it, making a needy sound in his throat that has you grinning. 

“Mine,” Vernon whispers to you, words muffled by your neck. “You are only mine, darling. You will only ever be mine. You were made for me. No one else.”

“No one else,” you agree. 

His hips move faster, a little messier. You egg him on, legs squeeze, cunt spasming around him. He lets out a feral sound, driving himself further to his orgasm. He drags you with him, another swell reaching you. Vernon can tell, chasing it like a predator, pinning you down and slamming his cock into you until you’re melting around him again, vision blotted out. 

Vernon comes to the sound of his name on your lips. His movements become sloppy until he can’t go anymore, holding himself above you, trembling. Carefully, he drops next to you, pulling his cock free. You feel your joint fluids run down your leg, but you’re too tired to care. 

Reaching for him, your hand finds his chest. He wraps his fingers around yours, holding your palm to him, his heart thudding wildly under your touch.

“For you,” he mutters. “Only for you, darling.” 

You fall asleep like that, hand pressed to his chest.

-

Waking up in Vernon’s bed is not new to you. You’ve fallen asleep numerous times at his apartment or stayed the night after going out, but you’ve always had the bed to yourself, Vernon opting to take the couch. 

The bed is empty now, but still warm. You stretch as you roll over in his sheets, groaning as you feel the soreness between your legs and mostly everywhere else. Pressing your hand to your chest and shoulders, you feel all the tender places Vernon mapped his affection with tongue and teeth. It makes you smile fondly as you lay in bed alone for a minute, breathing in the scent of his room.

Slowly, you peel yourself from his bed. With an awkward waddle, you make it to the bathroom, flicking on the light. You shield your eyes at first, going about your morning routine and washing your face to try and feel human again. 

On your way out, something catches your eye. You frown, walking back toward his laundry hamper where you see brass glinting in the light. You reach for it, pulling the bell from the tangle of his clothes. It has an old wooden handle with cracks, a little hand bell used for-

Well. Used the night of halloween. You have no idea why Vernon still has it, the memory of that night like poison in your mouth. You toss it back into the hamper on top of another shirt that catches your eye. It’s one of his dark green t-shirts, but the collar is stained dark brown.

Curious, you pull it out, shaking the shirt out in front of you. It’s mostly unmarked, save for the spatter of something dark brown and dried. You run your finger around the edge of it, puzzled. It looks like dried blood, but you can’t recall any injuries he’s suffered recently. 

You take the shirt with you into his room, tossing it on his bed as you get dressed, stealing sweatpants and a hoodie. Grabbing the shirt again, you trail out toward the kitchen where Vernon is making breakfast, the smell of bacon crackling in the pan.

You grin, leaning against the doorframe for a second to watch him. He looks so at ease, flipping pieces of bacon while he sings to some seventies song you don’t know the name of. 

Pushing off the wall, you head toward him. He catches you in his peripheral, turning his head and smiling at you. “Hello, Darling.” 

The nickname gives you pause. You slow as you come around the corner of the counter, stopping completely as the endearment pricks you sharply on the back of your neck. Vernon goes back to flipping bacon, singing along a song you vaguely know, but don’t know why Vernon does. He’s never liked music from the 1970s, and-

Your ears start to ring. Several things occur to you at once. 

The memory of Vernon screaming and banging his fists against the door, begging for help. You’d been so afraid that you ripped the door open, crashing through the line of salt. 

Vernon, sharp and confident, the new edge to him as he interacts with people, a little harsher. A little darker.

Nah need to cut back on the sodium had said when you asked about the lack of salt on his fries.

The way he’d called you darling the night before, whispering it against your skin. 

70s music that Vernon has never listened to since you’ve known him.  

The bell sitting in the hamper used to call a spirit on Halloween. 

In the house that belonged to the Hello Darling Murderer.

Brown stains - like blood - on his shirt. 

Carefully, you learn toward the middle of the counter, watching Vernon like a prey skirts a predator. With trembling hands, you gently grab the salt from where it sits next to the pepper. You hold your breath, trying not to draw his attention as you unscrew the top of it, placing the metal lid on the shirt to keep it quiet. 

With as silent steps as you can manage, you cross to the other side of the kitchen where you’re out of his line of sight. Tipping the salt over, you pour it across the tile from counter to fridge, eyes darting between the barrier of white and the man standing in the kitchen humming. 

Your heart hammers. 

Your hands shake. 

Salt shaker empty, you set it on the counter and take a few steps back. It’s an unbroken line of salt, and though it doesn’t trap him in the kitchen, at least it’s there. 

Vernon turns around with the pan of bacon. He sees you and his humming stops, cocking his head to the side. He notices the empty salt shaker. Frowns. Looks at you. Looks at the ground where you’ve drawn a line of salt. 

For a second, he just stares at it. His eyes flick back up to you, warm and brown but narrowed. 

“Why is there salt all over my floor?” 

“Cross it.” 

“Huh?”

“Step over the line of salt.” 

Silence stretches between you. He remains standing in the kitchen, pan in hand, music playing in the background.

When Vernon doesn’t move, you can see everything so clearly. 

Vernon hadn’t been joking when he slammed his hands on the door begging for help on Halloween. A sick feeling roils in your stomach as you remember the panicked screams, the way his fists hammered the door. 

Your next words come out as a hiss. “Cross the line of salt, Vernon.”

He looks at the salt and purses his lips before sighing and setting the pan down on the stove. He tosses the rag from his shoulder and shakes his head, striding over to the white line you made against his tile. He stops in front of it, looking at you with his eyebrows raised as if to say really?

“Well, do it.”

Vernon looks down at the salt. Looks back up to you. Down at the salt. 

And then he laughs. 

“Fuck, you really are the smartest person in school.” He sighs heavily, a gaze darker than anything you’ve ever seen on his face as he stares at you. “You know I can’t cross that line of salt, darling.” 

-

TAG LIST:

Tag list has not been used for this fic - there weren't enough character blocks left over for it because Tumblr sucks.

[homiesexuallaj]

Friday the 13th

Pairing: Eric Draven x reader

Genre/Warnings: fluff (kinda), Eric loves Halloween and its decorations, he tries to scare the reader, kinda proofread

A/N: I know it’s not friday the 13th anymore but I couldn’t help but feel inspired (both by the date and my recent love for Brandon Lee/The Crow). Gif belongs to @thecreechercatalog

———

Eric would love Friday the 13th, no matter what month it falls on. But when it’s a month near October, it gets the man super excited and in the spirit. Eric already puts out Halloween decorations early, but with friday the 13th making its rare appearance Eric is putting spooky decorations up super early.

You left for work that morning from a normal looked apartment and a sleeping boyfriend. You’d given Eric a tender kiss to his forehead before leaving quietly. The crisp morning fall air bit at your cheeks, but you didn’t mind at all. You were just happy to wrap up in some clothing.

You worked late tonight, arriving home in the late evening. You climbed the stairs on shaky, tired legs. Upon approaching your door, a white skull was placed in the middle and a garland of purple bats hung from the top of the doorway. You could only shake your head as you unlocked and opened the front door.

You locked the door behind you and turned around to face your shared apartment. It honestly looked like Halloween had exploded in the loft. Strings of bats and little skeletons hung from the ceiling, going from the kitchen all the way into the living room. Orange and purple string lights were wrapped around table legs and lamp poles. Some of the lamp lights had even been changed out for a low, red light. Life-size skeletons were even sat in chairs that you and Eric didn’t occupy that often. Fake pumpkins of all sizes and faces carved also littered the apartment. Up on the little kitchen island and coffee table, white candles of all shapes and sizes were lit. They didn’t smell but added to the ambience of the spooky apartment.

As you milled around, you also discovered that there was a large candy bowl with all of your favorite candies piled in. Just as you were about to pluck a piece from the bowl, you’d gone blind. Ice cold hands blocked your vision. A spark of fear ignited through your body until you heard a voice speak.

“Boo,” A familiar low voice spoke before turning you around with a swift movement.

You were met with a ghostly white face. His eyes were painted black, thin spikes going halfway up his forehead and just over the tops of his cheek bones. His lips were painted a black as well, blood red spilling from his inner slips and his top lip overpainted to show a faux smile.

Despite the frightening features, his eyes swirled with amusement and affection and an adored smile twisted his lips. The man held you by the shoulders softly, excitedly pattering his fingers against your damp jacket.

“Did I scare you?” Amusement laced his words.

“Only a little,” You shrugged.

The man hummed, “Guess i’ll have to try a little harder next time.”

“I guess,” You hummed back, amused at your boyfriend’s antics.

Without a word, Eric began shedding you of your outside clothes. Throwing your jacket and handbag onto a nearby chair, your boyfriend backed away and headed towards the open window to the fire escape. Rain pitter-pattered outside.

“What’s on the agenda tonight, Mr. Draven?” You asked, following him slowly.

“Come find out,” Eric smirked, disappearing out the window and up the fire escape.

You could only chuckle and shake your head at his mysterious antics. Eric Draven always kept you up on your toes.

———

A/N: I have a part 2 idea so if yall want it or if I write it I’ll tag it somewhere on here! And also requests for Mr. Draven are open so go ahead and drop some in my askbox!!

[marleyybluu]

Scream

Spooky Diaz x f!reader

Word count: 821

Content Warning(s): 18+, smut out the ass, mask kinks, p in v, little bit of porn, little bit of plot, Spooky's big fucking arms, I picture spooky hella tatted, the reader is not race-coded, reader speaks and understands Spanish, no one is pulling out (I seriously have a problem), backshots anyone? mirror sex anyone?, I'm toasted rn so sorry for the mistakes, lmk if i missed any or if i forgot to tag you

A/N: if yall know me well enough, you know what kind of state of mind I'm in 🍃and I just thought I'd write a little quickie since Halloween is next week and I don't think I've ever written anything in regard to Halloween so here we are.

(not mine, got it off Pinterest. i could koala cuddle those arms fuuuuck)

It started off as a joke. You'd become influenced by the amount of Ghost face masks you'd seen on TikTok, girls buying their boyfriends the infamous Ghost face mask so that they could put it on and pretend to be the killer from the movie, a few even accessorized with a fake knife and the women always seemed to get off on the idea. It was weird to you, at first, but then you became curious about what he would look like with the mask on. Maybe you'd open up a new kink for yourself, or maybe not but it was worth a try. 

So you went to Spirit Halloween and travelled over to the mask section where only two of the Scream masks were hanging. It seemed like you weren't the only inquisitive one. You bought some other things to decorate the porch with and headed back home. You called out to your boyfriend saying you needed a favour. He sprints into the living room where he sees your hands behind your back and that smirk on your face, you were up to no good. 

You present him with the mask and he chuckles shaking his head. You tell him that you want to know what he'd look like in it, but you don't want to see him try it on in front of you, you want him to walk into the room like the videos you'd seen. You hand him the mask and trot upstairs and into your shared bedroom where you sit patiently on the bed. 

It took a few minutes but you'd finally heard the creaking of the stairs, your heart raced with anticipation and a familiar tingle in your fingers and toes. All over your body really. He emerges from the dark hallway into your dimly lit room and leans against the door frame. Your breath gets caught in your throat, and your thighs squeeze together. He had upped it a bit by removing his shirt and all he had on was a grey wifebeater and sweats to match. His arms were so big and his chest was so large, his broad shoulders adding to the attraction and his scattered tattoos were a bonus. 

You blink and before you know it those clothes, accompanied by your own, have been disregarded and scattered all over the floor. And somehow, here you were, face shoved into the mattress and back arched professionally. His enormous hands gripped your waist as he pulled you into his thrusts making you feel every inch, every vein that was prominent on his shaft. You whine, fingers gripping the sheets for dear life as he pounded you, the bed shaking and creaking to match his rhythm. 

"Look up, mi amor, this what you wanted right?" He mocked, you raise your head with the little bit of strength you had and looked up at the mirror across from the end of your bed, you bite your lip, the sight was something out of Twitter porn. The mask, his arms, the grip he had on your flesh, the way your ass recoils every time it collides with his pelvis-- Oh it was almost magical. "Fuck! That feels so fucking good." You whimper, your toes curl and you feel another orgasm approaching, only the gods in heaven knew what number this one was. You cried as you felt your hands, with a mind of their own, move from their position as you tried to crawl away from him, it was too much, the sheets were damn near soaked and sticky. 

Spooky caught on and pulled you back. "¿Adónde vas, cariño? Hm? Can't take it?"

You gasp as he draws you close to him, his strong arms hooked around your waist, your back pressed against his chest. "Oh, fuck, fuck,fuck!" Was all you could get out before your walls squeezed him, your head in the cloud and your vision completely fucked out. Your head falls back on his shoulder while he continues to slam into you, his own high slowly creeping over him. He takes off the mask and kisses your neck, licking and sucking enough to leave his mark. 

"You want me to come for you, bebita?" He grunts hotly in your ear, you moan and nod as an answer. Usually, he would tell you to use your words but considering your current sex-dazed state, he'd leave it alone for today. He buries his dick deep, his throbbing erection painting your walls making them extra sticky. You smile drunkenly when he affectionately nudges the back of your shoulder with his nose. "You always feel so fucking good, baby, I fucking swear." He praises, now kissing your skin. "Te amo." You manage to squeak out. 

He chuckles. "Te amo, mamita." 

He playfully smacks your ass before easing his way out of you, you fall on to the bed and sigh, completely and utterly satisfied. 

Thank god for TikTok trends.

If you liked this fic feel free to like this fic, reblogs and comments are appreciated.

see you in the next one. peace and love 🤙🏾

🏷: @darqchilddaydreamz @realhotgurlshit @skyesthebomb @librarian1002

who might be interested: @miyahmaraj @bigenergy777

[justcallmesakira]

PORT MAFIA RANPO WHO....

Sypnosis: How about an au where ranpo is in the port mafia and has this sugar crush on ADA! Reader?...

PM! Ranpo x GN reader

Warnings: implied stalking, port mafia ranrizz, indirect kiss

A/N: GUYS I SWEAR I DONT SIMP FOR RANPO I SWEAR!!

PM! Ranpo who got this crush on you who works with the ada while passing by a candy shop amd couldnt get his eyes off you since then! What a lovely candy to devour...

PM! Ranpo who intentionally gives Mori the idea of joining with the ada just so he can see you more often. He know what he is doing

PM! Ranpo who realises that you still stay cautious around "The smartest executive in the whole world" even after he sweet talked you with words you would die to hear.

PM! Ranpo who doesnt send his minions to stalk you, he can just do it himself cant he? After all he is the most known and strategic man in the mafia..

PM! Ranpo who just loves barging in the agency when hes sure no ones there to mess around with you and try to rile you up by getting a bit too close.

PM! Ranpo who set out a whole plan late at night by making thugs chase after you just so he can "save you" at the end

PM! Ranpo cornering you while the others fight and putting the lolipop he was sucking on in your mouth and then leaving knowing damn well he got you weak in your knees

PM! Ranpo who knows you also have the yearning to go after him but is too shy to admit so he just keeps makkng you flustered till you give in

A/N: this makes 0 sense but ehh i wa feeling bored

Tags: @biscuits-spooky-corner, @little-miss-chaoss

Divider crds! : @plutism

[97keanu]

Premise: Vampire!John Wick has caught your scent, and now there's nothing that will stop him from obtaining what he craves. You on the other hand, are enjoying a night on the town dressed as an angel for Halloween. You don't realize what a mistake you've made walking into a real vampire's path.

Tags/CW: DARK FIC, Vampire!JW, Being hunted, pred/prey, innocent!reader, angel coded!reader, bimbo!reader, dumb!reader, blood drinking, regular alcohol drinking, john is an evil vampire, dub-con, dead dove don't eat, hypnotism/hypnotized!reader, reader has a secret kidnapping!kink, reader has secret dark desires, knife kink in the form of claws, biting, teasing teasing teasing !!!, mind reading, reader who is a secret slut, reader who wants to be sacrificed, major character death mentions/teased, blood doll!reader, readers fate undetermined.

A/N: I've always had a thing for vampires. In this fic, I explore some of my favorite naughty kinks, and give you an extremely long and kinky sex scene between John and reader. Hope y'all like it, be sure to heed the content warnings ʚ♥︎ɞ

He has hunted your scent for miles. That sweet, delicious blood of yours calling to him in even the faintest amount. You poor, pretty little thing, that doesn't even know she's being hunted. You laugh with friends after dark, walking in groups for safety as you enjoy the Halloween festivities. You have no idea that it doesn't matter where you go tonight. That John has already decided your blood will be his, and so it shall be. You look so dolled up too, in your tiny miniskirt and frilly, barely-there white top. On your back, two perfect, tiny fake angel wings float along your figure, a costume halo atop your head. You look pristine, and John can only imagine what all that white will look like when he's done with you. It's as if you decided to serve yourself up on a silver platter for him, unknowingly.

As you walk about the city in wobbly, chunky platforms, you giggle into the night air with friends, the mist of your breath pooling in the sky above you. You don't notice in the sea of people that is New York, that you're being stalked. You don't see the man, moving silently from building to dark alleyway, inhaling your scent as deep as he can. You don't see the fangs, that glint under street lamps as he passes. They've grown so long from desire he can hardly keep them hidden behind his lips. Luckily for John, costumed Halloween goers flood the streets. A perfect time for a creature of the night like him to be so bold in public. Tonight, he will go unnoticed.

You however go into the next club on your bar hopping adventure without a care in the world. You don't see the dark figure slipping in behind you at a speed you can't even comprehend. You walk with an air of innocence and wide-eyed wonder. You gawk at spooky displays and laugh at slasher costumes as you walk by. You know that underneath that scary mask is just some greasy twenty-something who would love to get you in bed. As if.

The lights and music blare, and you are pulled by your friends to the dance floor. You're already feeling the heat of the cocktails you've had tonight in your body, and when you move to the rhythmic music, you feel your legs wobble along lazily. Your friends pass you another drink, you don't know from where, and you consume it happily. It's sweet, bitter aftertaste goes down easily, and you enjoy your night of being young and free.

A few men try to dance with you, but when you size them up, they're so not your type. They're just too young for you, even if they are likely the same age as you. You've always loved a more mature man, someone bigger and wiser than you who can really put you in your place. Half of you fantasizes about a man like that taking you from this hedonist pit of a club, pulling you into his car and driving away. You imagine he would take you back to his house just to tie you up and keep you kidnapped there against your will. The idea has always turned you on, but none of the men in this club tonight could ever give you something like that. You continue to dance with your friends, ignoring any drunkards who try to make a pass at you with an up turned nose.

The night continues on, and more drinks find their way into your hands. You happily take them, not caring how beyond drunk you are. As you're dancing, you slowly realize how seperated you are from your friends. You glance around, looking for them in the crowd, but see no one. Instead you feel the hair on the back of your neck raise. You feel as if you're the one being watched.

When you finally find the pair of eyes on you, you see the face of a handsome, older man in the crowd. You're surprised to see a man like him in a crowd like this. He seems so suave, so opulent, and through your drunken eyes, he also seems expensive, if not rich. You saunter over, slowly dancing through the crowd, until you're close enough to the staring stranger to see how intense his eyes really are. For a moment, fear washes over you, but you shake your head, deciding yourself silly for being afraid.

John can hardly hide his delight that he has caught you, his pretty little prey angel. He hears your thoughts about a man like him taking you away, tying you up, and using you like the hole you are. John has to laugh under his breath. You could never guess how true that sentiment really is. John can imagine doing more than just tying you up, though.

He watches as you walk right over to him, he can sense the fear rising up in you. You have every right to be afraid, but you still come, like the fly to the spider. You know it, in your heart, that John is a predator. Your own senses tell you, but like the silly human you are, you ignore them. Human's have lost all superstitions for creatures like John, it almost makes it too easy to trick you into letting him in.

John pulls you in when you get close enough, he has to hide how sharp his nails are, be gentle with your fragile body, but he still senses how rough he's pulled you in. In your drunkeness, you assume you've just tripped into him.

John feels your warm, tiny body against his, and you move like a siren, obviously not as angelic as you seem. Your body ungulates on his, rubbing your backside straight into John's cock. To your surprise, he's already hard, and you blush thinking it was so easy to do such a thing to him. You don't know that it's not just your body that's turning him on. No, it's what he's imagining doing to you after he's had his fun toying with you like this. It's that sweet blood that pumps in your veins so temptingly.

He let's his hands move up your body, caressing every curve, feeling your hips and gripping them into himself, imagining how he would take you later on. His hands continue up, pressing and playing with your breasts, and for a moment, you reach up for his hands, startled by how forward this strange man is being in public. He relents, his hands moving up to caress that pretty neck of yours. In your intoxicated state, you continue to allow him to play with you.

What you don't notice is John has slowly pulled you from the crowd, isolating you from the rest of the humans having a fun Halloween weekend. You don't even realize it until John is starting to move you through a back door of the club, the night air suddenly chilling you and ruffling the feathers of your wings. You turn to face him, and he smiles so sweetly. As he smiles you notice the sharpness of his teeth, and your mind tries to explain it away as a costume, but they look so real, and so sharp. Your instincts once again tell you to run, but with the way he's looking at you, you feel a pull to him you can't explain.

It's as if everything in your brain is telling you how dangerous this man is, but your body can't get enough of him. Even being so close now, his husky, earthy scent, similar to pine trees and steel, draws you in. You feel your body tingling where he touches you on your waist and back, his finger tips freezing. He reminds you of winter itself, cold and unmoving. But you are moving aren't you? When you notice your surroundings outside his intense, dark eyes, you see you've been drawn to a dark corner of the alleyway.

You look about and notice how quiet it is, how it's as if everyone else has been banished from the area, not even the rustle of wind is making a sound. No, the only sound right now you hear is of your increasingly alarmed breath. You look back to the strange man to see he has bent you backwards, your wings now barely brushing the dirty alley, your hair swept from your neck.

Suddenly, in the moonlight, those glinting fangs don't seem so fake. In fact, they seem so real you're shaking from it. Your rabbit heart thumps relentlessly, and suddenly adrenaline floods your body. You move to run, to jump out of his grip like a frightened doe, but his hands hold you like steel.

"Who--?" You begin to say, trying to muster a scream for help that doesn't come.

"My sweet angel," John speaks for the first time to you tonight, and your entire body goes cold. "You will be so delicious..."

John doesn't care to hide it anymore, the fear has overcome all else inside you, and you know that he is dangerous.

John takes his hands to your throat, turning your head so that he may look into your eyes. You look into them, those two dark orbs, and you feel that fear wash over you again as you realize how red they are getting. You must be imagining things, it must be the lack of light, but no, you're sure of it. This mans eyes are truly, deeply, darkly red. And just when you had mustered enough sense to want to run away, he's hypnotized you. His vampiric powers of manipulation wash over your mind, over your body. You feel a false sense of calm, and your mind tries to scream for your body to run, but you can't. You're stuck there, transfixed and mouth agape, your body wanting John more than anything.

Now that he has you in such a vulnerable state, he simply picks you up, carrying you bridal style to a spot he's already picked out. He takes you to a nearby apartment, abandoned and high up enough no one will hear you scream. He has outfitted the bedroom here as the perfect vampire nest. The windows are boarded from all light, the room is adorned with candles, and he's even brought in some tools to use on you. He will take his time with you, that much was certain. You want to struggle as he sets you down on the bed, but your body doesn't move. You look up at him like a lamb to the slaughter, waiting for him to break your pretty little neck.

"Hands." He says roughly, and before you can think to deny him, you're lifting your hands I front of you, doe eyes looking at him so pitifully full of tears that won't fall.

He ties your hands skillfully together, tight and inescapable. Then he ties your hands to the bedframe above you, and you look up from there, asking for some miracle to save you.

"There will be no miracles tonight. Not for you, angel." You glance at him, wondering how he read your mind. He laughs when he sees the confusion in your eyes, his fangs yellowed by the candle light.

"Don't worry, my sweet. Being able to experience all that you have in that pretty head of yours is just half the fun..." John pets your hair before he begins to undress you.

When it's time to focus on your clothes, he has an easy answer for that. He runs his claw along your body, so sharp that even the slightest bit of pressure would surely slit your delicate skin. You can feel the hypnotism waning, but suspect that he has done this on purpose.

"Yes... I have." John answers your thought. "Now, let's hear those lovely moans of yours."

You try to scream, and it comes out as a soft murmur, something akin to being strangled. You feel tears fall down your cheeks, and gasp as you feel John apply just enough pressure to slice through your mini skirt. He plucks it off of you the way one might pluck a petal from a flower. You watch as he tosses it away, feeling the cold air on your almost nude bottom half.

He works his way back up your body, still allowing his claws to glide against your baby soft skin. He reaches your top, and snaps the straps easily, pulling the top off to reveal your breasts to him. Despite everything, you can't help how easily wet your cunt is getting.

"You may try to deny me," John says, again pulling your feelings straight from your head. "But I know you've always wanted this. That's what drew me to your blood. You have the blood of someone who knows they're prey."

"N-no..." You attempt to say, but the words barely find their way out.

"Don't lie, I can see those dark thoughts at the back of your head. How you used to touch yourself to the thought of being kidnapped. How you wished someone would tie you up, just like this. Even just tonight, you thought of this. Don't start being a brat for me now, angel. Show me how badly you've wanted this." The last sentence is a command you must follow, and when John's hands have reached up to your glossy mouth, you have no choice but to open.

You feel him place two fingers so deeply inside your mouth, your pussy trembles at the thought that he might cut you there. It's as if he's placed a knife in your mouth, so gentle, but so deadly. You close your warm mouth around his cool fingers, sucking lightly. The thoughts you've had about scenarios like this before flash in your mind, no doubt John's influence.

While he keeps you pacified, he runs his free hand down your exposed body, taking care to hold your breast, feeling your beating heart behind it. The smell of your fear and pleasure mixing in your blood has John beyond hard, he doesn't know how much longer he can contain himself before biting or fucking you. He holds back his throbbing fangs, for now.

You watch helplessly as he pulls his fingers from your mouth, moving his body down yours, until his head is lined up with your soaking cunt.

"I can smell how badly you've wanted this from here..." John teases, and you bite your lip, embarrassed of how your body betrays you.

John plays with your white, lacy panties, pulling them so taut that your pussy lips get caught around them. You moan despite yourself as John plays with your panties just so, your engorged clit getting some wanted attention.

"You're so human...denying yourself the ultimate pleasure you've been seeking, I would never dream of such a thing." John muses as you writhe against your restraints, even this slightest touch driving you mad. You think of kicking John away, but your legs just won't work for you. He has you perfectly spread for him, tied up like a present, and unable to resist.

"I'm sure all your fantasies consist of killing young, helpless women. I'm not sure that counts." Your voice whispers in a chiding tone, and by the look of John's dark eyes on you, you wish you'd held your tongue.

John pulls your panties so hard against your tender clit you let out a small scream. He moves his face to meet yours, speaking directly to you as you lay there fearful, mouth open to silent screams.

"Yes, angel. I do kill young, helpless girls. Let's see if you can be a good girl tonight and change my mind." He watches the fear pool in your eyes, breathing in the scent of it with a smirk.

You try to hold his eye contact, try to be the brave girl who fights her attacker. But that's just not you. That's never been you. You've always been soft, easily guided this way or that. You've never been particularly smart, or witty. You've gotten by on your beauty alone for so long, that you made yourself think you were more powerful than you were. Really, you're just a lost little lamb, looking to be herded, but finding the wolf instead.

John can see that, hear that in your thoughts, and he reaches up, cups your face in his hand, and pulls your eyes back to his.

"I think if you expand your mind a bit, little lamb, you may even really enjoy being drained to death..." The way his cold eyes fill with excitement at this statement makes your stomach flop. It takes everything in you to pull your chin away from his hand.

He let's you, pulling back down to your glistening cunt. John pulls your panties up and places a sharp claw under it, the soft side of his claw brushing against your clit. In one fell swoop, he cuts away your panties.

You squirm and try to make your legs close, your whining coming out between sharp breaths as you try to fight this power over you. He slowly brings his face to your quivering cunt, looking up at you with those dangerous onyx eyes.

"The sooner you realize you've always been meant to be someone's plaything, the sooner you'll find yourself loving this..." He whispers, prodding more of those sick fantasies to flash in your head.

John let's his fangs flash in the light before letting his tongue taste you. His tongue is surprisingly cool, making you recoil, but with more movement, you hate that your hips try to buck into his mouth. He's teasing your clit every so carefully, moving perfectly to keep you on edge. Your entire body floods with pleasure that you try to keep at bay.

"You know you want more...ask me..." His voice breathes against your pussy, leaving chills to run up your spin.

You hate how right he is. You want this, you want this man, no, this monster to fuck you senseless. You can't believe how sensitive you're getting even at the idea that he kills you, that you become nothing but a meal for such a powerful creature. Your blood pumps loudly in your ears as you try to ignore him down there, try to will your body not to be so sensitive to his touch, to his tongue lapping at your cunt ever so gently. You should be fighting him, screaming for your life, scheming at least for how to get yourself out of this, how to save your own life.

But when you look into his dark eyes, you know it's no use. Any plan you could come up with, he would hear. Any escape, if you somehow got out of your restraints, was futile. He was stronger, faster than you in every respect. All you could do was lay here, shuddering against the monster that's tempting you to let them make you cum. What were you supposed to do? What would the smart, cunning, witty girl do?

"P-please..." Your voice summons, and John's ears perk up at the sound.

"Please what? What changed your mind?" He looks at you curiously.

"Please...make me cum. I've..." You take a deep breath and hold it as John gives a longer lick. "I've never been the smart one, or the one who was going anywhere big in life. I'm only useful as a hole to fuck. Please fuck me and make my pitiful existence mean something."

"And if I kill you?" John teases your pussy by lightly gliding his claws across it, the feeling similar to that of a cool blade being used.

"Then I would be happy to be of use to you..." You can't believe you've said this, but you can feel John pulling the words from you with his eyes.

You close your eyes after the last word, unable to look into John's eyes any longer. After a moment, when you hear nothing, you peek at him. He looks at you like a cat presented with a shiny new toy. His interest in you is piqued more than even before.

"Maybe you will be more than a temporary plaything..." John raised his eyebrows with a hint of laughter, the sentiment didn't help much to relieve you of your fear.

Seeing you so willing to admit how much a girl like you was meant to be nothing more than fuck meat and a meal made John's cock struggle against his pants. He has grown tired of smart girls who try to escape, it always ended the same anyways. Now you, you who can admit that they are prey, that was much more interesting. The way you sacrifice yourself to him made John feel like a king, no, a God.

He could feel himself throbbing with want, wanting to take you here and now, but he was a man of his word. He would make you cum first.

He returns to your cunt, served up for him perfectly, and begins to devour you much more than before. He licks with purpose, using his tongue to give you so much attention your eyes almost roll back from the intensity. What surprises you more, leaves you gasping is when he sucks your clit into his mouth, his teeth ever so gently applying pressure and new sensitivity. You quiver and your legs seem to not be your own, muscles tensing and squirming under John's touch. You feel John's hand hold your thigh down in place, his claws knicking your skin just slightly. The pain mixed with the pleasure John gives begins to send you over the edge. When you see the small droplets of blood begin to leak from your thigh, you cum for him, moaning into the night air.

As you settle down, your heart rapidly getting away from you, your eyes lazily open and watching John, you see him move his mouth to your thigh, lapping up the blood that's been spilt there.

John licks the wounds, and the close up, but tasting your delicious blood has him unable to hold back anymore. He needs more of it. Now.

John sinks his teeth into the soft flesh of your inner thigh, his fangs almost melting into your dainty skin. You cry out, and John bites deeper, his cock leaking from the sound of your despair, his mind reeling from how good you taste. Soon, he pulls his teeth back, sucking deeply of the blood that gushes into his mouth. As he begins to drink from you, an unimaginable wave of pleasure crashes over you.

You can barely contain yourself, your voice not your own, your moans of anguish and want, heedy and full of need. You've never felt such pleasure, not even from how well John made you cum moments before. You greedily relish in it as John drinks deeper, a free hand lifting to pet your sweet cunt, driving you mad with sensation. You feel yourself begin to cum again. Then again. And again as John continues to consume your precious blood.

John can feel your heart slowing, can sense your life force leaving you as he consumes your warmth. He has to force himself to stop, his muscles tightening and attempting to keep his jaw locked on your thigh. You're so high on pleasure you hardly notice how close to dying you really are right now. You feel yourself slipping away, as if falling into darkness and greeting it happily. Maybe he was right, maybe dying this way wasn't so bad...

John pulls his fangs from your thigh with great strength. He laps carefully at the two pinprick wounds, and watches as they slowly close, as if nothing at all had happened. You can barely hold your head up, your breath slow. You lay languidly, lolling about when John moves to get near your face.

He softly pets the side of your face and your eyes flutter open, looking up into his eyes the way Ophelia may have looked at the sky before succumbing to death. You watch, unable to process what's happening, as John slits open his own wrist, letting the blood there drop into your open mouth. The taste is sweet, bitter, and smoky, just like him. You swallow with great effort and John watches as your paleness slowly starts to perk up.

"You're going to be an interesting blood doll indeed..." He whispers as he pets your hair gently. "Now rest..." He commands and your world goes dark.

Taglist: @sunnythebunny7 @smutmaniac @worldsgreatestsinner

[dancinglikebutterflywings]

Spooky Season | Halloween Event 2024

Not Your Monster | Wooyoung

🧡 Pairing: Were-cat!Jung Wooyoung x GF!Reader

🖤 Requested by: @staytiny2000

🧡 Prompt: 19 - "Find your own monster! This one's mine."

🖤 Warnings: guns, murder, werecat, werewolves, intruders, blood, poorly written gore.

🧡 Word Count: 791

🖤 Taglist: Open. Send an ask or fill out the Tag List Form. Please note that the halloween event taglist is included in the general taglist.

Spooky Season 2024 Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Y/N wakes to a loud scuffle coming from her living room. She looks to beside her and finds her boyfriend is no longer in the bed with her. A wave of panic washes over her and with her heart racing, she quickly jumps out of bed, her bare feet hitting the cold floor as she snatches her gun from the bedside table, and rushes out of the bedroom. 

As she nears the living room, she can see shadows moving in the dim light, their voices low and tense. Scanning the room, she spots a third person pinning her boyfriend to the ground, a gun aimed at his head while he growls and hisses in defiance. Wooyoung’s sharp, white claws are embedded in the assailant's arm, but the man seems completely unfazed. 

Y/N stealthily entering the room until she levels her gun at the one restraining Wooyoung. “I suggest you let him go,” she declares, making her presence known as she clicks off the safety of her weapon. “Or I’ll put a pretty little silver bullet through your skull, mutt.” 

The room falls silent, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. The leader’s smirk falters as he glances over his shoulder in surprise. They clearly didn’t expect her to be there. Wooyoung takes this moment of distraction, his muscles coil like a spring, his cat like reflexes taking over as he prepares to fight back.  

“Who the hell are you?” the leader questions, reaching for his own gun. 

Y/N shoots off a round, the bullet grazing the intruder's hand.  

The leader yelps in pain, instinctively dropping his weapon as he clutches his injured hand. Blood seeps through his fingers, and his eyes widen in shock, realizing that he underestimated the woman standing before him. 

“Damn it!” he curses, his bravado crumbling. “You think you can just play hero? You have no idea who you’re dealing with!” 

“You idiots are the ones who broke into my home and attacked my boyfriend. Now,” she hissed, preparing another shot. "Find your own monster! This one's mine." 

“So, you know what he is?” the leader asks. 

“Just like I know he’s a werewolf,” she says turning the gun on to the man that had been minutes away from killing her boyfriend.  

Before anything more is said, Wooyoung then unleashes his claws, swiftly taking out the throats of all three of the intruders, leaving the two humans to collapse as they bleed out on the floor. He then takes the gun from Y/N, putting a bullet through the werewolf’s head and heart, making sure he was dead. 

“Y/N-noona, Wooyoung-Hyung,” Jongho’s voice calls from behind the door, his fists pounding heavily against the wooden panels, urgency in his voice. “What’s going on in there? 

Y/N stands frozen for a moment, her heart pounding in her chest as she processes what just happened. Wooyoung, now back to his human features, steps closer to her, his soft hand reaching for her cheek. “Y/N,” he says, his voice soft. “Are you okay?” 

She nods, her eyes meeting his. They’ve faced danger together before, and while Wooyoung had trained her for such moments, she had never seen her boyfriend kill someone, let alone three at once. 

Wooyoung’s gaze softened, and for a moment, the weight of the world seemed to lift. But the urgency in Jongho’s voice and the consistent banging on the door broke through the moment, reminding them of the gravity of their situation. 

“I’m going to let Jongho in, okay?” he tells her. “He’ll help me clean this up. You go grab our bags and start packing.” 

When she nods, her presses a soft kiss to her lips and urges her towards their bedroom. She grabs their duffle bags from the bottle of the wardrobe and hurries around the room collecting their clothes, essential items and other belongings that are a little too sentimental leave behind.  

The bags heavy with their belongings, she struggles to carry them into the living room. “What if more people come?” she asks, dropping the bags to the floor and grabbing more stuff that she doesn’t want to leave behind. 

“That’s why we’re leaving,” Wooyoung tells her, picking up the bags as if they way nothing. “Hongjoong and Seonghwa are on their way to help Jongho. They'll take care of everything we've left behind and put it in storage.” 

As she goes to ask something else, an alarm sounds in the distance. “Go, now!” Jongho yells at them, pushing them towards the door. 

“What about you?” Y/N asks him. 

“I’ll be fine, just go,” the younger man assures her. 

With that, Wooyoung pulls Y/N from the apartment and leads her through the back of the building to the car waiting for them. 

©️ 2024 dancinglikebutterflywings - do not copy/modify/repost anywhere. reblog instead

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[mrprettywhenhecries]

run rabbit, run [g.t]

Gator Tillman ✘ Win Lewis (OC)

✝︎ w.c. 3.7k words ✝︎ a/n. I wanted to write a few spooky oneshots for kinktober, focusing on kinks I've never written before, and this is (hopefully 🤞) the first of three. ✝︎ tags/warnings. canon x oc pairing, fem!oc, predator/prey, hair pulling, spitting degradation, spanking, rough sex, unprotected p in v sex, outdoor sex, creampie, slight gunplay (if you squint) ✝︎ credit. barbed wire divider {x}

After a disappointing corn maze, Gator proposes a more thrilling game and Win is all too willing to play.

[ masterlist • win bio ]

“Oh my God, that was so lame,” Win exclaimed, though she wore a grin on her face as she and Gator stepped out of the corn maze, the sound of screams and laughter punctuating the night air behind them.

“You can’t tell me you weren’t scared,” Gator scoffed, slinging an arm around her shoulders when he noticed her shiver and pull her thin jacket closer.  “You screamed your head off and hid behind me every time someone in a mask jumped out at us,” he pointed out, scowling as some teenagers pushed past, nearly running into him.

Win jerked her chin defiantly and shot him a sharp look.  “I’m not saying I wasn’t scared,” she huffed, “but there’s a difference between a cheap scare, like a jump scare and true terror,” she insisted, leading Gator toward the exit, the scent of popcorn and sweet roasted pecans from the food carts nearby surrounding them.

“You’re the only person I know that actually likes being scared,” Gator snorted, stopping to get Win a caramel apple for the road.

“It’s not that weird,” she huffed, climbing into the passenger seat of his truck.  “As long as you’re not in any real danger, it can be pretty exciting.”

“Guess that makes sense,” Gator mused, twisting his key in the ignition.  “I’ve heard fear can be an aphrodisiac too,” he added, glancing over at her pointedly.

“Oh, you’ve heard that, have you?” Win laughed, freeing her treat from it’s plastic wrapping and giving it a taste.

Gator tilted his head, lifting a shoulder in a half shrug, though a smirk played at the corner of his mouth.  

“It’s not like I didn’t have fun though,” Win added, laying her arm across the console to thread her fingers between Gator’s, smiling softly when he gave her hand a squeeze.  “I just wished it would’ve had more… ambience.”

Gator nodded to himself as an idea took root.

“What’re we doing here?” Win asked, sitting up straighter in her seat as Gator turned onto the lane to the ranch.

“Just gotta grab a couple things from the house real quick,” Gator answered cryptically, pulling up in front of the dark farmhouse.  “Be right back,” he assured her as he threw the truck in park and jumped out, hurrying up to the porch and disappearing inside.

A minute later, the front window on the second floor lit up and Win could see Gator’s shadow moving about his room.  It only took him a few more minutes before the light switched off and he was back out the door and striding toward the truck, carrying something in his hand.  It wasn’t until he yanked the door open that Win realized what it was.

“Is that a paintball gun?” she asked, unable to keep the incredulity from her voice, noting that he’d only grabbed one.

“Yep.”  Gator answered simply, stowing the gun in the backseat and tossing Win his heavy camo hoodie.  “Put that on,” he instructed, climbing back behind the wheel and turning the truck around. "You're gunna need it."

“Gator, what are we doing?” Win huffed, though she shrugged off her jacket to pull the sweatshirt over her head.  Gator’s scent still clung to it and she took a moment to bury her nose in the soft fabric, breathing him in.

“That’s for me to know and you to find out,” he replied, wearing a smug grin.

He didn’t drive far, their destination only a few miles from the ranch, and Gator pulled off onto a narrow dirt path nestled between a patch of woods and a corn field, parking just out of sight of the road.

“Now are you gunna tell me what we’re doing?” Win asked, peering out the window as Gator cut the engine, excitement prickling her insides.

“Well, you said you wanted to be scared,” he answered, turning to look at her, his lips curving impishly.

“I did say that,” Win mused, wetting her lips, anticipation bubbling in her stomach.

“I thought we could play a little game,” Gator continued, arching an amused brow at her from under the brim of his cap before pushing his door open and grabbing the paintball gun.

“And what sort of game would that be?” Win asked, hurrying to follow him, thankful for his hoodie as she left the warmth of the truck cab, though the trees helped to cut the wind some.

Gator checked something on his gun before answering, stepping into Win’s space to smirk down at her.  

“I’ll be the predator... and you’ll be the prey,” he drawled, watching her through hooded eyes.  “I’ll even give you a two minute head start.”

Win swallowed, her eyes darting to the gun in his hand.  “You’re not gunna actually shoot me with that, are you?”

Gator shrugged.  “Not if you’re quick enough.”

The condescension in his voice made her squirm, annoyed at how much it turned her on.

“And what exactly are you gunna do when you catch me?” she asked, stepping closer, a challenge flashing in her stormy eyes.

Gator’s lips twitched, pleased at her choice of words.

“Guess you’ll just have to find out,” he drawled, the promise in his heavy lidded gaze sending heat pooling low in Win’s stomach.

“Ready for your head start?”

“You better give me the full two minutes,” she warned, and Gator started a timer on his watch.

“You better get going,” he exclaimed, and Win took off, sprinting for the treeline, glad for the cloudless sky and the nearly full moon hanging overhead.

Even after passing under the cover of the foliage, the night was still light enough that she could easily see the path ahead, though it occurred to her that that would only make it easier for Gator to see her as well.

“Shit,” she hissed under her breath, stopping to scan her surroundings–she needed to find some place to hide, and quick.

She could feel the seconds slipping away and though she knew it was only a glorified game of hide and seek and it was only Gator hunting her, her heart fluttered like a rabbit’s, hammering against the inside of her ribcage while her pulse thundered in her ears, the adrenaline flooding her making her feel alive.

Spotting a large bush growing next to a cluster of trees a few yards away, Win hurried toward it, dropping to her knees to crawl under its branches just as she heard Gator’s voice in the distance.

“Your two minutes are up, Winnie!  I’m comin’ for ya.”

The crunch of Gator’s boots grew louder as he approached and Win shrank back further into the bushes, holding her breath and hoping the shadows were deep enough to obscure her.  Somewhere overhead an owl cried and Gator stopped mere feet from her hiding place, his head swiveling, searching, and part of Win itched to jump from the brush and take him by surprise, turning the tables just to prove she could—but then she’d lose the satisfaction of being caught.  

And for once, she wanted to be caught.

But that didn’t mean she wanted to make it easy for him.

After what felt like an eternity, Gator finally moved on, holding his gun at the ready.  Once he was out of sight, Win slipped out from her cover, hesitating long enough to crane her head the way he’d gone before sneaking off in the opposite direction, picking her way carefully through the underbrush.

Confident she’d lost him, she let out the breath she’d been holding and began moving faster, less carefully, thinking to double back toward the truck when a loud snap–almost deafening in the silence–echoed through the woods and she froze, her blood running cold as she looked down at the broken stick beneath her foot.

“Fuck,” she grimaced, straining to listen for Gator’s footsteps over the rush of blood in her ears, foolishly hoping he’d been far enough out of earshot to have heard her blunder.

Two sharp cracks ripped through the silence, exploding bright green against the tree next to her and a startled cry burst from her lungs, jolting her into motion.  Without a second thought, she took off sprinting, realizing too late that she was being forced out of the woods and toward the cornfield.  If she turned to run along the drive between the two, his next shot surely wouldn’t miss–for all of Gator’s shortcomings, marksmanship wasn't one of them.

Breaking out of the treeline, Win leapt headlong into the corn rows as she heard Gator fire off another couple rounds.  Though the dry corn was harder to move stealthily through, it was better than no cover at all.

Angling her body to maneuver through the narrow rows, the brittle corn leaves whipped against her face, forcing her to slow and it wasn’t long before Gator could be heard behind her.

“Where are ya, Winnie?” he called, whistling for her like a dog, and she could practically hear the smug smirk playing at his lips.  “It’s no use tryin’ to hide.  You know I’m gunna find you.”

Win stopped, gasping for breath, and turned to listen for the rustle of corn as Gator stalked her, trying to get an idea of how close he was, which direction he was coming from.

“C’mon Win, we both know how much you want me to catch you.  For such a feisty bitch, you sure like it when I have you helpless.  Bet it has you drippin’ just thinkin’ about it,” he drawled, using the barrel of his gun to part the stalks as he prowled the rows, searching for her.

A harsh gasp left her lips as she caught a flash of movement to her right and Win quickly clapped a hand over her mouth and dropped, crouching low, hoping Gator would be more focused on what was ahead of him rather than scanning the ground.

“When I catch you, I’m gunna fuck you like the little whore you are, right out in the middle of the woods–”

A soft groan caught in Win’s throat at the thought, desire pulsing through her, but as much as she wanted it, she wasn’t ready to give up just yet.  After all, the chase, the mounting tension, only made it that much hotter.

Keeping an eye on the spot she’d seen movement, Win began to creep forward slowly, circling Gator’s position as she fought to avoid rustling the stalks too much, hoping his own movement would mask any sounds she made. 

“How long you plan on keeping this up for?” Gator called, stopping once more to scan the field, tilting his head to listen.

Win grimaced, her jaw clenching as her shoulder brushed against a stalk, the leaves rustling loudly in the sudden silence and Gator’s head snapped toward her.

“Gotcha.”

Giving up on stealth, Win scrambled in the dirt for purchase, pushing herself up to make a break for it, Gator right on her heels.

She could hear his breath loud in her ears, or was it her own?

For one brief moment the moon shone brightly overhead before she was back in the woods, the moonlight filtering down in patches amid the shadows.  Not daring to look back over her shoulder, she weaved through the trees, her heart pounding hard in her chest.  For a moment she thought she might outrun Gator, not quite as fast as he once was back before his football accident, until she tripped.

Catching a large root just right with the toe of her boot, time seemed to slow as she went sprawling, arms windmilling uselessly before landing hard on the ground with a grunt.

“Shit–” she hissed, hastily pushing herself to her feet, but it was too late.  

“Freeze.”

Something pressed into Win’s back between her shoulder blades and she froze, lifting her hands in surrender.

“Good girl,” Gator murmured behind her, his breath fanning across the back of her neck, sending a shiver racing down her spine.

Gator slowly circled her, a smirk tugging at lips.

“You ready to give up?  You put up a pretty good fight, but let’s face it, I’ve got you cornered, sweetheart,” he drawled, peering down his nose at her, radiating smug satisfaction as he trailed the muzzle of his gun between Win’s legs, his lips twitching as she squirmed.

There was a look in his eyes that thrilled her, that made her burn for him—her cunt aching for him to fill it.

“You gunna answer me?” he prompted and Win swallowed, slowly nodding.

“I give up.  You win,” she said, hanging her head so Gator couldn’t see the flash of defiance in her eyes.

As soon as he stepped closer, letting his guard down,—thinking he’d won—she struck, knocking the paintball gun from his hands and they struggled, tumbling to the ground.

Wrestling frantically, kicking at the dirt and leaves, the two rolled, grunting and panting, until Gator came out on top, his cap knocked from his head and his slicked back hair falling in his eyes as he pinned her by the wrists.

“Shit—“ he gasped, catching his breath as he held her still, hovering over her.  “Shoulda known you wouldn’t go down that easy,” he breathed, a pleased grin twisting his lips, turning pink from the cold.

“That’s my firecracker,” he chuckled, his heavy lidded eyes roaming her face.  “It’s so much hotter when you put up a fight,” he drawled, leaning in to kiss her deeply, his tongue demanding against hers and Win groaned as his cock throbbed against her hip, trapped beneath his cargo pants.

Gator echoed her moan as their tongues clashed and Win bit down hard on his lip, his moan turning to a hiss of pain.

“Ow, Jesus—“ he hissed, releasing one of her wrists to gingerly touch his lip, a trace of blood staining his fingertips, though a ghost of a smile curved his lips at her display of defiance.

“Now you’ve really done it,” he drawled, running his tongue along his bottom lip.

Win’s breath hitched as Gator sat up, his fingers fumbling at the button of her jeans, hastily working them down her hips along with her thin panties.  As soon as the chill air hit her bare skin, she gasped, but Gator only grinned, his gaze dropping to her exposed sex.

“Fuckin’ knew it,” he groaned, admiring the way her folds glistened wetly in the moonlight, dragging two fingers between them to gather her juices before lifting his hand to show her, pulling his fingers apart to watch her slick stretch between them in silvery strands.

“You’re fuckin’ drippin’, Winnie,” he drawled, pressing his fingers to her lips till she opened her mouth to suck them clean, moaning low in her throat at the taste.  “Looks like you’re enjoying this as much as I am.”

Win could only nod in response, swirling her tongue around his digits.  Gator’s head fell back with a groan as he palmed himself with his free hand – his cock beginning to strain painfully against the stiff fabric of his pants.

“Shit, you’re like a bitch in heat,” he muttered, swallowing thickly, and Win pulled his fingers from her mouth with a soft pop.

“Jesus Gator, you gunna fuck me or just talk about it?” Win huffed, her eyes flashing impishly.  “You’re supposed to be the predator, right?  Devour me,” she breathed, pushing up to her elbows as she held his lust drenched gaze.

“Fuck, I love you,” he breathed, rocking back on his heels to roll her onto her belly and hoist her onto all fours before fumbling his cock free, hissing at the cold.  Win gasped as Gator pressed between her shoulder blades, forcing her face down against the ground, ass still in the air, and her cunt throbbed at how easily he manhandled her.

“Be a good girl for me and stay still,” Gator grunted, grabbing the fat of her ass to part her cheeks, pursing his lips and spitting against her puckered hole.  Win gave a jerk, half pushing up, Gator’s name on her lips like a warning until her gave her ass a sharp swat, the palm of his hand stinging from the impact and Win gave another jolt, gasping in surprise.

“What’d I say about staying still?” he exclaimed, grabbing her hips to pull her back into position.  “I ain’t goin’ in that hole, so calm down,” he added in assurance.

“You better fuckin’ not,” Win muttered, but lowered her head obediently.

Gator grinned, caressing the red welt he’d left on her ass cheek before pausing to spit again, biting his lip as he watched his saliva roll between her folds to mix with the sticky arousal that was already practically dripping down her thighs.

Gripping his cock at the base, he guided the tip to her entrance, groaning as he pressed into her tight wet heat, watching raptly as she sucked him in, her greedy little cunt stretching around him like it was meant to take his cock.

Win echoed Gator’s moan, pressing her forehead to the ground as she arched back against him impatiently, urging him deeper, feeling every vein and ridge as she squeezed around him.

“Oh fuck– eager little rabbit, huh?” Gator panted, thrusting sharply the rest of the way, forcing a breathy gasp from Win’s lips as he bottomed out.  “C’mon, I know you can take me better than that,” he taunted, condescension dripping from his words as he thrust sharply into her again, tightening his grasp on her hips to hold her steady as he began to pound into her, his fingers digging into her flesh hard enough to bruise.

With each swift rut, Win’s body bounced forward with the impact, the lewd rhythmic slap of skin against skin filling the air, competing only with their heavy breaths and moans.

Digging her fingers into the earth, her cheek pressed to the cold ground, Win had never felt so deliciously helpless, so like an animal ensnared by its captor, unable to fight back even had she wanted to.  With each thrust, each jolt of her body, Gator’s cock dragged against that sensitive spot inside her that made her head swim, and she moaned, his name tumbling from her lips deliriously, uncaring about the noise in their seclusion.  She barely even felt the sting of the cold against her exposed flesh.  

“Fuck, Win—“ Gator groaned, almost a whine, his pleasure swiftly building, compressing the spring in his gut til he was afraid it might snap.  Tangling his hand in a fistful of her hair, he gave a sharp tug, forcing her head up as he leaned over her, his lips close to her ear.  

“Who owns this pussy?” he hissed, his breath hot against the curve of her jaw.

“You do—!“ Win gasped, the pain in her scalp mixing with the pleasure that coursed through her, hovering just out of reach.

“Damn straight,” Gator grunted, gritting his teeth, his movements growing jerky, desperate.  “You gunna be good and cum for me?” he asked, the strain in his voice evident.

Win tried to nod before remembering his grasp on her hair and she winced.  “Fuck, yes, please—“ she begged, wetting her lips, and it was all Gator needed to hear.

Desperate to push her over the edge, he released her hair to awkwardly wrap his arm around her, slipping his hand between her legs to search for her clit as he rut into her frantically, rubbing sloppy circles against her bundle of nerves.  The effect was nearly instantaneous, the added stimulation pushing her off the ledge and into the deep end, and Win came with a keening cry, her body tensing violently.  

“Shit, Win, fuckfuckfuckkkk—!” Gator echoed, falling headlong with her into the abyss, his hips stuttering as Win clenched impossibly tighter around him, milking him dry with each deep thrust until he finally stilled, cock still twitching as her walls pulsed and fluttered around him with the after shocks of her climax.

Panting heavily, he dropped his head to her shoulder with a ragged breath, his arm around her the only thing holding her up.  Despite the cold, sweat beaded on Gator’s forehead, his shirt sticking to him beneath his coat.

Win, however, trembled beneath him and he hastily pulled out of her, watching his spend seep from her spent hole for a moment before pushing it back between her folds with his fingers and pulling her panties back up.

“Can’t lose any of that, huh?” she chuckled weakly, pulling her jeans back up while Gator hastily tucked himself back into his cargo pants, still wet with their combined fluids. "Love the thought of you filled with me," he murmured. 

Once dressed, the two of them collapsed to the ground together, Win fitting against Gator’s side as if she was molded just for him, seeking any warmth she could find and he pulled her closer, pressing his lips to her forehead. 

“So, that was pretty fun,” he chuckled, looking down at her.

“Mhmm,” she hummed, glancing up at him through her eyelashes, his body heat not quite enough to chase away the chill that had seeped into her from the ground.  “Next time I wanna hunt you though,” she teased, shivering.

Gator snorted.  “Not a chance,” he replied, shaking his head, briefly wondering where his cap had fallen, the tip of his nose and ears growing numb from the cold.

“That’s not fair,” Win huffed lightly, snuggling closer, pressing her face into the crook of his neck, breathing him in.

“Yeah it is,” Gator countered, frowning slightly at how she trembled in his arms.  “C’mon, let’s go back to the truck and warm up, and we can argue more about it when your teeth aren’t chattering.”

Win rolled her eyes, but nodded, letting Gator help her to her feet.  Crouching to snatch his hat and tug it back on his head, he grabbed his paintball gun from where Win had knocked it from his hands.

“Ready?” he asked, wrapping an arm around her shoulders to keep her close till they got to the truck. “Ready,” she agreed, clinging to him as they walked.  “But don’t think our discussion is over,” she warned lightly. 

“You just wanna shoot me with a paintball,” Gator snorted.

“Maybe,” Win conceded with a grin.  As much as she enjoyed being his prey, she couldn’t deny how much she liked the thought of hunting him next time.

✝︎ taglist. @super-unpredictable98 @heartbreak-sandwich @sailorskunk @thecatkingsthrone @thecreelhouse

@girlwiththerubyslippers @professionalpromqueen @buckysgrace

[wickblr]

October is coming up soon! What if we had a spooky Wicktober event, like those writing events with a prompt for each day of the month (or every other day or something)? People could answer the prompts with a piece of writing or a drawing, and the prompts could be things like:

Helen Wick’s Ghost

Vampire AU

Serial Killer Santino

Dog’s Halloween Costume

That sort of thing! Would anyone be interested in that?

I’m supposed to be replying w nothing but this is a great idea!

This should have been done like a month ago but I really didn’t think anyone would be interested, so, uh anyways;

I’ve made 2 versions of this since I know a lot of the writers on Wickblr are adults who only do writing as a hobby, so here’s both Wicktober and Wick Week! I don’t know if there’s been a writing event for the John Wick community, but here!

Wicktober is a month long event where people submit their drabbles/fics based off the prompts listed! Considering we aren’t really a strict fanbase, you can switch around the days and prompts—skip a day or few, or just do one! You’re free to use this as a writing ask game for October. Any day can be switched around except Day 24 which is the ten year anniversary of the first John Wick movie and the John Wick series as a whole (happy birthday to the movies!!!)

Feel free to run rampant on the prompts with your own interpretation of it, be more symbolic, be more realistic—just as long as you want to contribute to this event and want to write for it.

Wick Week is a seven day long event, which can be started on any day in October honestly since it’s a week of prompts. It has the same thing going as with Wicktober.

Rules:

- No harassment (some anons are really mean when it comes to people’s writing which is no good since Wickblr is a pretty damn small community)

- No derogatory comments made in the ask box of this blog since I know SOME people really wanna fucking discuss how “bad” some fics are (which you should write yourself if you really think it’s that bad)

- NSFW is allowed, and unlike this blog; x readers, x OCs are allowed, or cc x ccs (ex: helen x john which I will be doing on @marquisedegramont if you wanna see that)

- Make sure to tag #wicktober 2024 or #wick week 2024

- Creators can produce fics/drabbles or drawings

- Add the necessary warnings before every fic, thank you! Some fics may be triggering for some people and they would appreciate warnings beforehand :)

- Post it on ao3! (If you want)

- Do as little or as much as you want. Be self indulgent

- Prompts are free to use after October ends

shameless plug from the mod: art -> @evrensadwrn | writing -> @marquisedegramont and on ao3

and also my furry friends: art -> @tobytheeggo | writing -> @bluelolblue

reblog maybe ?

cr ; cross divider

[hotpinkstaples]

January 8th - 14th, 2024

Monday, January 8th - Sins of the Family // Isolation

Tuesday, January 9th - Prophecies // Deadly Devotion

Wednesday, January 10th - Superman Cults // Possession

Thursday, January 11th - The Forgotten One // A Hole in the World

Friday, January 12th - A Parent Knows Best // Eldritch Horror

Saturday, January 13th - It Takes a Village // Inheritance

Sunday, January 14th - Mistakes Were Made // Horror Movie AU

Purpose?

Not enough horror-themed fanworks in the world about the Superfam. Got jealous of the Batfandom having all these horror-themed events and projects, so I decided to host one for the Superfam.

Why should we participate in this?

Because you like seeing the soupeyfam in ever-increasingly fucked up situations that elicit a deeply-rooted, ancient dread :3

So how does it work?

The release date for fanworks is from Monday, the 8th of January through Sunday, the 14th of January, 2024. 

This aint a Halloween-themed event! You have well over three months to write, draw, and create fanworks. However, use the spooky season to help generate some ideas and propel you forward! :3

This an opportunity for people who’d like to explore the Superfamily characters, dynamics, and relationships through a variety of prompts. Although romantic ships are nice, please make sure the Superfam are the focus of your fanwork.

Superfamily characters include, but are not limited to:

Clark Kent

Lois Lane

Kara Zor El

Jonathan and Martha Kent

Jon Kent

Osul Ra and Otho Ra

John Henry Irons

Natasha Irons

Kon El/Conner Kent

Chris Kent/Lor Zod

Karen Starr

Kong Kenan

Superfamily characters of ANY comic book universe are acceptable. If you want to spend the entire fanweek exploring Ultraman and Injustice!Superman because you love drama, then be my guest! If you want Ultraman to kidnap Lois this time instead of Jon, go for it!! Let that imagination run WILD!!!

Darkfic, horrorfic, genre-specific work, and other both safe and not-safe-for-tunglr dot hell tropes are welcome. Just make sure that you post any Mature content on a landing page that doesn't restrict Mature content (like AO3). I don’t want anyone getting their blog banned. We cannot defeat our capitalist overlords, but we can definitely work around them.

This fanweek will not have a dedicated blog. These prompts are free for anyone to use. Because it is a non-traditional, non-monetized, and free-to-opt-in casual event, there will be no mods but moi, no advertising of paid services, and no ratings or participant restrictions. I will open a collection on AO3 in January for anyone who wants their work collated for this event.

In order to ensure that both creators and the audience are making informed decisions about what they engage with, all creators are encouraged to include triggers, ships, and any other squick warnings. 

Please utilize the read-more function for fanworks that are longer than 250 words. We're tryna read yer stories, not get spammed with a wall of text. Please Be Courteous.

And last but not least - if you are engaging with any of the fanworks, reblog, reblog, reblog! Share the work with your followers. Send all the love to the creators for crafting their masterpieces!!

What can I contribute?

Fanart (standalones, comic strips, etc.), fanfiction (one-shots, multichapter, etc.), fanmixes, gifsets, graphics, meme collections, fanvids, whatever your heart desires! Go wild!!!

Can I create/write not-safe-for-tunglr dot hell content?

Yes!!! All creators are encouraged to include triggers warnings, sub-genre specifications, ships, and other warnings in their posts. I will not discourage you from writing your 16k Kara-goes-evil fic, but please... Be Courteous and tag your fanworks appropriately so people can make an informed decision on what they're comfortable with viewing.

What does (X) prompt mean?

Each day has two prompts!! You can either pick a prompt OR you can combine prompts in different ways. Let your imagination take you where you want to go with each prompt!! If you want to explore both in the same fanwork, then be my guest!!

Mainstream Canon, Elsewords, and AU content is acceptable! Just make sure to stay within the comicsverse. Creativity is key! Have fun!!!

Can I crackship/multiship/harem/OT3/polyam the characters?

Absolutely!!! Just please remember that this is the Soupeyfam horror week, not the Lois-Has-A-Harem-of-Elseworlds-Supermen week. We love ships and things, but this week is about the Superfamily. The characters can have their lovers, but their personal romantic dalliances shouldn't overtake the Soupeyfam dynamics (unless you're pulling a Cersei and Jaime, lmao, if that's the case, go wild).

Does this have a tag?

During release week, use the general “superfam” tag to share your work with the wider Superfam fandom on tunglr. You can use whatever other tags you fancy. The best way to share, however, is to directly @ me so that I may reblog it.

I didn’t read a damn thing before this, Ava.

TL;DR: Over three months until the fanweek!!! For all fanwork creators out there, now’s the time to start thinking about what prompts you want to utilize for your creations. There are no creative restrictions, but I do ask that you follow these posting tips:

All fanfiction should be under a read-more.  

Not-safe-for-tunglr fanwork should be LINKED to whatever landing site the content is being hosted on (Twitter, AO3, etc). This includes both fanfiction and fanart. I don’t want your blog getting flagged bc tunglr hates gay people.

Provide content warnings for all triggers, squicks, and sub-genres. Unfortunately, in my ten odd years away from DC Comics, the fandom's seen a resurgence in puritanical behavior and tons of censorship and self-censorship. Please list content warnings on your work but do not be discouraged in sharing your work. If a fancop gets on your ass, block them. Please block as MANY as you can. They're like pests, they're always gonna be there, but their influence can be diminished by staunch blocking and reporting.

You can participate as much as you want!! Maybe you only wanna create for one day? Cool! Maybe you’re an overachieving corporate clown insomniac like myself, and wanna create for every day of the week? Go for it!!! 

The most important thing is to have fun :)

Truth be told, this event is entirely selfish. I personally love to the horror genre, and would love to see the characters in the Superfamily get more canon content as seen through beloved horror tropes. Unfortunately, Status Quo often gets in the way, and the current fanworks are largely ambivalent to the Dreadful and Despairing. If you'd like to join me in creating deliciously dark fiction featuring our favorite DC clan, please do! I would love to read your 10k character study of Otho and Osul assimilating into human society after spending their formative years as slaves in Warworld.

We’re over three months away from release week, so take your time, look through the prompts, and get your creative juices flowing! I will be sending out reminders until the go-live date.

For the people who showed interest during the initial interest check, I hope you're able to participate. To the four people who hate me, your mom's a hoe. Thank you.

[hawkinshorror94]

The Chase

Uh, I got this idea from a post that I saw about Astarion being spooky (I will tag them) and though the idea makes me laugh he probably is a little creepy. Ya girl didn't proofread shit, might redo the ending bit. Feel free to leave criticism, I love writing but I haven't done it in so long that I feel it often falls short of what I imagine in my head. I love you all <3

Edit: I came back and added the debauchery

Also in the forbidden realms wiki it says Vampire Spawn can "Spider Crawl" which is what you would think and I played into that.

Warnings: Chasing, Hunting, nudityish, oral (female recieving) spitting, smidge of blood play if you squint, unprotected p in v, AFAB, breeding kink

He could hear her, smell her, practically taste her in the air around him. He just needed to find her and chase her down. His ruby eyes searching the trees, their darkened bark making it easy for him to see her nude body, running from him. His eyes see her, the plump of her ass and a wave of her hair disappearing behind a tree.

“Gotcha.” He muttered moving up the tree closest to him. His fingers gripping into the bark as he moves silently up the tree and out onto the branches, they creak slightly under his weight, but they hold up. Moving closer to her silently, he can hear her heartbeat. It is fast like a caged bird, but she is the only one who is caged here, hunted.

She stands in a clearing searching for him, none the wiser that he is sitting just above her head. The smell of her blood pumping through her veins makes him feel high. He can also smell her arousal, how much she desires being chased like this. Hunted by the vampire spawn till he catches her, feeds from her and fucks her till she screams his name into the night air.

He watches her spin around a few more times admiring how her skin looks in the moonlight. He can taste the fear in her, thick like honey. She was worried about him or was she worried that he wouldn’t find her and stuff that pretty pussy full.

“Sweet,” He says standing from his crouched position in the tree, smirking down at her as her head snaps up to him. She doesn’t speak, but she tenses ready to run again, but it’s too late now. He tackles her to the ground holding her down by her wrist watching as she squirms under him. “Do you still want this, darling?” He asks her, rutting into her to show her how much their little game has aroused him. She nods, she has never wanted anything more in her entire life.

His fangs pressed into the inside of her thigh, feeling the plush skin under his mouth. He laughs; something soft and an almost animalistic sound. When the skin breaks the blood pours into his mouth like sweet ichor. It readily flows after their little game, pumped straight to him from her beating heart. His fingers snake up to her soaked cunt as he feeds, his fingers slide easily into her with little resistance and the little whimper that leaves her mouth sounds like a siren’s song.

“You’re so sweet.” He moans as he feeds from her. He’s not even sure if he means her blood or the taste of her arousal dripping down her thigh into his mouth. He hears her whine as he presses his thumb against her clit, his tongue laving against the wound to close it. She looks down at him, her pupils blown wide. He must look much the same to her, his eyes nearly black, her blood dripping down his chin. He smiles like the predator he is before taking a long languid lick from her sopping hole to her bundle of nerves.

“I'm not sure what my favorite part of our little game is. The chase, the feed, or having you like this. Knowing I could kill you and you’d just let me, how could you stop me.” He kisses his way up the smooth skin of her belly, pausing in the deep valley between her breasts watching her.

“Would you like to taste yourself? You’ve been such a good girl tonight, I think you deserve it. Do you agree?” He watches her nod enthusiastically opening her mouth wide for him. He grabs her chin, smirking at her, watching her eager face. Gathering any remaining blood and slick in his mouth, he spits it into her waiting mouth, he watches as her tongue tastes the musky taste of her arousal and the salty, metallicity of her blood.

“Swallow it, whore.” He pinched her chin harder waiting for her to swallow it down. She asked for it, she should be grateful that he indulged her. He watches as her throat bobs before he kisses her. Something dominating all teeth and tongue, a battle of wills that she quickly gives up on. She knows he’ll always win; he is the dominant species after all.

He leans back undoing his breeches to free his cock, giving her one last look before pressing her knees to her chest and entering her. No time to adjust before he sets a brutal pace engulfed in her velvety walls. He growls, he would never get used to how fucking good she felt, how her sounds nearly made him spill into her after just a few minutes. How when he looked at her belly he thought of fucking her full of his babies, till she was heavy with his little dhampirs. The thought made him absolutely feral.

“You look so good like this darling, full of my cock,” He cooed into her ear, nipping at the soft skin there as he pressed into her more. By the change in her pitch, he knew he was hitting that spot in her that made her see the astral plane. “You gonna cum for me, pretty girl?” He groaned as he felt himself slipping closer and closer to the edge himself.

“You gonna milk my cock, hm?” She nods against him, her nails digging into his back, thighs trembling as her feet dig into his hips. When his name tumbles from her lips it sounds like a revered prayer whispered in a temple. He was her God and she was a good little acolyte. He wasn’t far behind her, spilling off into her pretty cunt, stuffing her full. She looks cock drunk below him, tired and swimming in dopamine; he could smell it leaking out of her pores like honey.

“You did so well.” He whispered, smoothing the sweatslicked from her forehead and kissing her gently. No matter how much of a monster he was, no matter how much he enjoyed hunting her down like prey, he was always soft to her after. She was his beating heart after all, his sunshine when he had to live in the shadows.

[slutouttanowhere]

Arsonist Lullaby| D. McIntyre

Drew McIntyre x Devlyn Chambers(oc)

Warnings: exhibitionism, vouyherism, cunnilingus, oral (m) receiving, oral (f) receiving, oral ejaculation, swallowing seamen, knife play, chase and capture, mask kink, rough play.

Word count: 5k

Tags: @slutfortheeclaymore @wwechristina87 @cardierreh15

Devlyn’s POV

"Devlyn! I’m going to suck your blood!” Liv jumped out from around a corner, fake blood pouring from her mouth, and a set of fake teeth peering out from beneath her lips. A long red and black cloak around her shoulders that matched her button up shirt, and suit vest. I was completely unmoved by her jumpscare, my brothers have been torturing me with that my whole life, and besides this was her third try in two hours. I rolled my eyes, I turned to her with a pitiful smirk, she's been trying her best though, I was a normal person I’m sure I would have been spooked.

"C'mon Liv, you know I'm pretty much impervious to the spookiness, I’ve been watching horror films since I was 10." I said airly, I never figured out why I was so obsessed with slashers. I’ve come to love the genre as a whole, something about a big, strong masked man chasing you, and feeling helpless unlocked a dark desire in me. We walked arm and arm down the arena backstage area, it was still early, so there weren't many stars around. I nodded to a few people as they passed us.

"Not my fault you're a freak." She giggled, playfully bumped into me. I didn't even try to hide the grin that spread across my glossed lips, flashbacks of the way Drew had me bent over his lap last weekend replay in my mind. His large hands showed me no mercy knowing I could handle the sting, in between each slap he'd warm me up with his palm, and swing again. His index, and middle finger messaging me as deeply as he could.

“Please don't kill me Mr.GhostFace, I wanna be in the sequel." I playfully moaned out, just as Liv parted her lips to speak, two large hands reached out and grabbed me by the hips. "Fuck!" I shouted at the same time, his big hands gripped me, and brought me into him. He pressed my back against his chest, and kissed the shell of my ear. My heart was hammering in my chest, I whipped around to see Drew grinning proudly.

"Gotcha." He whispered melodically, I rolled my eyes before pecking his lips, and then wrapped my arm around the back of him. We continued down the hall of the backstage area.

"So much for you being impervious to the spooky." Liv grumbled, Drew is usually the only one who's able to make me squeal. He knew exactly how to get underneath my skin, he knew my love for horror, and that it would take extra precautions in order to make my heart jump. There’s not a lot of people that can scare me, but Drew however, can be very intimidating.

Drew’s POV

"Sorry Liv, but I'm stealthier than you." I chuckled deeply, my eyes flickered over to Devlyn, and just then I thought about the conversation the two of us had a while ago. She was confessing to me how she had a thing for slasher characters in masks, and that she had a Ghostface fantasy. I didn’t really like the idea of scaring her on that level, but if Dev was okay with it, I’d do anything to pleasure my princess. I went over the plan with her multiple times to make sure everything was to her liking, and that she was absolutely sure this is what she wanted.

That had been some time ago now, and with the way work was going, I’m sure Dev had forgotten all about that conversation, which is what she wanted. Part of the thrill was the unexpected aspect. This all made me feel more like a predator than her boyfriend; the way she would go about her business, bobbing along to whatever she was listening to, and doing her silly little TikTok videos. Totally unaware about tonight’s events.

Devlyn’s POV

Fortunately for the two of us, we weren’t scheduled for much after the show, and had the weekend off. “Ah, it feels good to be home.” I fell onto the sofa, it was nearly evening by the time you made it through the threshold. Drew came in the door behind me holding all my bags and his, he smiled contently then dumped all the luggage near the closet.

A while later he walked back into the living room, a soft smile on his lips, and his blue eyes shining. “I ran you a bath, c’mon, up you go.” Drew’s voice, and heavy footing could be heard from behind me, his hands gently grasped my shoulders. With his index finger he pulled my hair back, and over the shell of my ear. He caressed my neck before replacing his hand with his lips, pressing them to my skin. He only pulled away to help me up, he picked me up as if I weighed nothing, and carried me into the bathroom. His large hands gently pulled my clothes off; his fingers softly caressing your skin as he went.

“I’ll be right back.” Drew said once you were settled into the warm water, he kissed you on the lips, and left the bathroom before you had a chance to reply. I shrugged my shoulders, settled into the warm water, and let my body relax. He filled the water with suds, aromatic soaps, and lined the sink with candles. My head fell back, as I closed my eyes I saw Drew’s face, he was damn handsome it’s a crime, and even when he was younger with his long brunette tresses that he let grow well past his shoulders. He looked much more mature nowadays, long gone from that pouty baby face, only to be replaced with a hunk of a man. His brooding resting face could make him seem so mean, but I knew for fact he was just a harmless teddy.

“My teddy.” I hummed to myself content as I lifted my leg up out of the water playfully, suddenly I was met with the eerie silence of the house, and if I was a ditz I would have ignored it. I turned my head towards the door Drew left ajar, only open wide enough for me to see into the hall that led to our bedroom, but nothing more. I coulda sworn I saw something move past the door, but it was hard to tell when my eyes were straining at such an awkward angle, “Drew!” I called out to him expecting an answer, which was probably a mistake if some stranger had managed to slither its way into our home. I just gave myself away. You watch too much true crime, the only man that’s ever gonna make you scream is me princess. Drew could get a bit cynical, he was convinced the true crime documentaries I watched were just dramaticized for viewership, unfortunately he studied criminal law in college, and argued every fictional criminal show I indulged in. I rolled my eyes getting up out of the tub, carefully I reached over where he neatly folded a small sleep dress, and of course it’s see through. Not ideal to meet a serial killer half naked but what other choice did I really have, just as my hand reached for the door, my phone rang. My whole body jerked in response to the unexpected sound, “fuck.” I harshly whispered to myself, then I thought to myself, if someone wanted to murder me, they definitely would have done it already, hell I woulda ganked me in the the tub while I was looking stupid. I paused to thinkin about what I had just said. “Yup, way too many horror movies Dev.” I mumbled to nobody in particular. I rolled my eyes suddenly feeling like this whole thing was ridiculous, and the call was coming from inside the house this time. I finally reached the phone, I pressed it to my ear, “hello?” My eyes moved around the bedroom, there was zero sign of an intruder, and Drew is pretty adamant about security since we're gone for weeks at a time. The patio window across from the kitchen island was also seemingly undisturbed, I let my body relax after I assessed the situation enough to deem it as me having an overactive imagination.

“...Do you like scary movies?” The voice from the other end breathed heavily, my whole body paused, and before I jumped to conclusion again I replayed the husky voice in my head. The familiarity brought a grin slowly to my lips, I had forgotten all about this in the shuffle of things, work kept me occupied, and it didn't help that I was already uptight in general.

Drew’s Pov

I watched her from right outside the patio windows, knowing she was overthinking her overthinking, and was trying to justify her valid hesitation. I bit my lip trying nit to abort the mission all together and just storm in there and dig myself deeply into her. No, I committed to this role a month ago and I intended to see it through, even if it meant the pain he put himself in as I strained against my all black tactical pants. She never said specifically what I was to wear during this charade, she left all the embellishments up to me, which might have been a mistake on her part. Knowing that I get to play with her in ways she's never seen coming excited me. Not that we never could before but we both agreed to keep the kinks packed away for special occasions so as to not make the bedroom stale.

She leaned her hip against the kitchen counter, despite her own intrusive thoughts Devlyn was a hell of a woman. She wasnt petite by no means, in fact the smallest thng about her was her height standing at five feet nothing, but everything else about her was luscious. From her full breast which sit on a curvy frame that dipped in at her waist, and flared back out at her hips. She had a soft tummy that she hated. I fussed about her perspective on that every chance I got because I’ll be damned if my girl doesn't feel beautiful. I go out of my way as many times as I need to to make her feel loved, and desirable, even now this isn't something I could see myself doing, but if it made her happy that's all the motivation I needed.

I watched as she played with the hem of the short, see through lace, even from this distance I could see the way her nipples hardened. God only knows what’s going through that freaky little head of hers, she always tried to feign innocence around our peers, but I wasn't even surprised to find out something as dark as this would stir something heated inside her. I know a devient when I see one.

“I don't know.” She giggled, her voice tickling my ear, the thought of those full, soft lips kissing my sensitive ears as she so often did, it's her calling card. A move I couldn't, a teasing kiss to the shell of my ear, or a gentle caress to the lobes had me ready to beg on my knees for her. Devlyn held more power over me than she truly understood, the little minx.

“You don't know? Everyone has a favorite, what about…Scream?” I spoke slowly, my american accent always had a weird twang to it, never quite cementing myself into it, but just enough so people could understand me. This time though I wanted to at least play into it as much as I could aiming to sound as much like a stranger to her as possible, but it couldn't be helped. I wanted the way she caressed her breast with her fingers, her brown skin standing out against the soft baby pink somehow making her look more angelic, innocent even despite the spark in her eyes. She turned her back towards the patio doors, and leaned her upper half against the granite. The view of her arse was enough to kill a man, she had a naturally, perfect round booty with just the right amount of bounce as she walked. Since hitting the gym more often recently, it's become more lifted than the last time I’ve assessed her body, the dress barely covered her, leaving the rest of her ass, and thighs uncovered. I could just make out her fat pussy peeking out from behind her thick thighs, I knew I wasn't crazy she’s most certainly teasing me.

“Pft, isnt that movie about some guy who stood in womens windows and watched them like some sort of pervert?” She chucked, though she and I both know she's watched the first movie more times than I could count on both hands.

“You like perverts though.”

“How would you know that?”

I mentally applauded her for her quick responses, the debate team made her a hell of an apopnet on the mic, but I was just as quick-witted.

“Well you haven't hung up yet.” I teased, that’s right sweetheart, I’m jackass enough for both of us.

She was stumped, I could tell by the way she looked around from her spot in the kitchen she was trying to figure out my hiding spot, but she’s never going to guess it. I’m in too obvious of a place to even think about it, she’s getting worked up too, but this was her game, this is what she wanted. In her attempt to be different she spun herself into her own web. “How about you give me a little show sweetheart” I wasn't asking, her body perked up, she tried to look around again thinking she'd suddenly see me appear right before her eyes.

“What do you take me for, some kind of whore?” She asked heartedly, she bit her lip trying to suppress a giggle, I didn't hold back the cheshire grin that spread across my lips underneath the mask.

“Yes, actually, now be a good girl, and do as told.”

“I have a boyfriend ya know.” Despite her words of warning she still hopped up on the counter, leaning back on her elbows, and spreading her thighs wide. Gently she caressed herself, her breathing already heavy, and her tone nearly dropping to a whisper. The sight was something else.

“Oh yeah, what would he do if he were here right now?” I asked, my hand over the cloth that restrained me, I don't think I’ve been this turned on before, no this was something else. Seeing her behave like this made me feel feral, in a sense that I’d probably kill a man to get to her, just to taste Devlyn was enough to make me sacrifice.

“He’s so tall, big, and handsome, I still cant believe hes mine.” I wanted to sooth her doubts so badly, but I didn't interrupt, “his big hands would grab as much of my ass as he could, squeeze them, and spread my cheeks as far as possible.”

“Hmm and how does that feel? You like when he grips you like that?”

“Yes.” She moaned softly, her fingers circling around her clit slowly dragging out the sensation, but did not apply too much pressure. She was swollen, glistening, and slippery. The Holy Trinity.

“Fuck yes, his cock is so big, and I can never stop thinking about how it stretches me.” She breathed heavily, I can still feel the way she grips around my cock as she explains, almost like a phantom sensation.

“Show me how you play with it when he isn't here.” I demanded, my voice a mixture of a moan, and growl. She doesn’t waste time to obey me, carefully she dips an index finger deep inside of her pussy. Then she pulled out slowly, added a second finger, and gently caressed herself. “Open your mouth and let it out, if your boyfriend was there I’d bet he’d want to hear how pathetically needy you are”

Her cries filled my ears from her side of the phone, “God, you really are pathetic.” I mumbled out, I was desperate to take my dick out and stroke it to her, as if hearing my thoughts her next words came out as a plea

Out of breath, and completely unraveled. “I want to see you, show me where you are.” Impatiently she let out a whine, “please ghosty, please.”

Wordlessly, I stepped from behind the shrubbery, I expected her to continue, but instead she brought her two fingers up to her lips. Slowly, Devlyn sucked her own juices from her fingertips, and then hopped off the kitchen island. She made her way to the patio doors, her hand hovering over the handle, but she hesitated. My head tilted to the side curious as to what her next move was going to be, would she just tease me more, or would she let the bad guy in to let him have his way? I banged my hand against the glass, not too hard, but just enough to make it rattle under my fist. Devlyn squeaked like a church mouse, clearly scared, yet that dark desire had consumed her past the point of thinking clearly.

She opens the door, nothing between us except for the air, she can’t see my eyes, but I’m sure she can feel the intensity within them. “I’ll give you a three second head start.” Was all I offered her, the meaning of my words registered too late in her mind, “one.” Her eyelids widened like a deer in headlights, by the time she thought to move, I had already caught her.

Devlyn screamed out of shock as I grasped her waist, and easily lifted her over my shoulder. My hands held onto the back of her thighs, she tried to put up a fight, but the grip I had on her kept her from getting away. We made it to the bedroom, I stopped near the bed where I carefully dumped her, and took a step back. She moved onto her back, keeping herself propped up on her elbows. Devlyn waited patiently as I pulled my tactical vest and shirt off, she chewed on her bottom lip as her eyes swept my body from my chest down to my hips.

“Be a good girl, and don’t move.” Then from my pocket I whipped out a buck knife I had picked up from the hardware store in preparation for tonight. It really could be used to gut a fish, but I had no intention of actually harming my sweet princess. She held her breath as I crawled onto the bed, the weight of me pinning her down as I settled on my knees on top of her.

Devlyn’s POV

My heart pounded as he revealed a deathly looking dagger, I knew he wouldn’t actually hurt me, but he’s so imposing right now. That’s how Drew is, give him a good enough character, and he’ll really sink his teeth into it. He’s talented like that. With his crotch pressing on me, I could feel how hard he was through the dark army pants he wore.

With the tip of the blade he slid it underneath my dress where there was already a slit in the side. The cool, silver metal kissed my skin causing me to suck in a breath, and I held still as he worked. The flimsy material easily gave way to the sharpness, he caressed my collar bone with the back of the knife, his movement slow and methodical. I couldn’t see his eyes that well through the mask he wore, I couldn’t tell what he was thinking, or what his next move would be. It wasn’t until he sat the blade on the night stand beside us did I finally breathe. He wore black, tactile gloves on his hands, and when he used the pad of his thumb to draw circles over my nipples the rough material threw me off. My back arched as the mix of uncomfortability mixed with pleasure, with a stern hand, Drew pushed me back down into the sheets. He let more of his body weight pinn me to the bed, I tried to wiggle a little, “oh you’re not going anywhere sweetheart, that big bad boyfriend of yours has been dealt with, and now it’s just you and me.” His voice was gruffer than what it sounded like over the phone, his own excitement getting the better of him.

“Are–are you gonna hurt me ghosty?” My voice barely above a whisper, my breath skipped as he lifted the mask just over his mouth, but no further.

“Now why would I do something like that? I’d never waste such a hot, tight, piece of ass like this.” He grinned, then stuck out his tongue teasingly as if showing me the thing that would end up being my demise. He slid down my body, but not without pointing a warning finger at me, “don’t you fucking move, try running away and you’re dead.”

I nodded my head in response, unable to use physical words, he gripped my legs, pulled them apart to make more room for himself between my thighs. As if that wasn’t enough, he folded me in half bringing my legs back to my head, lucky for him I do yoga. “Yes, that’s what I wanna see, princess, that pretty pussy. How’s that song go, ‘outside brown inside pink’, hmm let me spread it open.”

My lips pressed together trying to hold back the laughter that threatened to bubble out of me. Did this man just really quote Sexxy Red right now? “Fuck, you gonna out your tongue on it?”

“I’ll do more than that, I’ll fucking devour that shit if that’s what you want.” He pressed his face into my inner thigh inhaling me before trailing kisses down to my throbbing clit. He pressed his lips to the small knob before sucking it into his mouth with his lips. The tip of his tongue swirled around in circles not wanting to miss a single spot, or crevice. I felt like a rabid dog as I tried to hold back from twisting and turning, but it’s been too long since he had his mouth on me.

“Fuck, I need it so bad Drew, please.” I begged, I didn’t give a fuck about the role play anymore, or him wearing the mask. I wanted to see his eyes from beneath me as he hungrily ate me out. I pulled the mask off his head and tossed it to the side. The intensity on his face made my heart jump, I’ve never seen him look so dark before. The flicking of his tongue didn’t cease, the constant clit stimulation was enough for me to finish in any second. My muscles were tight, my head was thrown back and nestled deep into the pillow. The combination of his own saliva and my essence, slid down me, and coating us both. I was so close, I could feel the heat of my orgasam creep up my skin, and then he pulled away. “Drew.” I whimpered, he sat on his knees before me, he’s pulling the gloves off his hands, but my eyes land on his cock. He had pulled his down to his thighs, I could see the way his precum shined as it leaked out, I chewed on my bottom lip nervously. His dick was hard, and his balls were tight, I fucked up.

His eyes slowly slid up my body to me, his head tilted to the side, “just remember Devlyn, you begged me to do this. You asked for this, so this is what you’re gonna get.” His tone was eerily calm despite how tenor his voice was, and how his baby blues had turned to glaciers. A shiver ran up my spine, the sweet, giant teddy bear I cuddled at night was long gone. He looked back down at his handy work, admiring the way my cunt yearned for him. He slid his index finger into me, slowly curling it, teasing my g spot every so slightly. This time when my back arched he didn’t stop me, but instead encouraged it. “I’m gonna make a fucking mess out of you darlin.” Before I had time to register what he meant by that, he had slid another finger, and then a third. Drew’s three fingers mine as well had been five from off the thickness of them alone.

As if that wasn’t enough, he got down a little lower so that his other hand could draw circles on my swollen clit. “Oh–

“That’s right, let it go sweetheart, let me hear you scream.” Drew purred, I clenched around him, as he worked my cunt like a pro. I tried to hold on for all my life, but this motherfucker just wouldn’t let up, the squelching sound of my juices was music to my own ears. Before I had a chance to process, my muscles tightened, my eyes rolled back, toes gripping, and mouth open. “Fuck!” I cried out, I wasn’t sure if the neighbors heard me, but neither of us have a single fuck as I squirted on hi which seemed like exactly what he wanted.

He bathed himself in my juices as it ran down his abdomen, he used his hand to smear it around, and coat his dick in it. “Oops, looks like you made a mess, you’re gonna have to clean that up.” He breathed heavily as he stroked himself with a right grip, he got up off the bed, and pulled his pants off. Now only in socks, Drew pointed his finger at me, the same one that was responsible for destroying just now. Obediently I pulled myself together, and got off the bed. I got onto my knees in front of him, I opened my mouth, and stuck my tongue out for him. “Look at that, such a good girl, s’not gonna change the fact that I’m still gonna fuck the shit outta you.” He teased, then grabbed a fist full of my hair like a ponytail with one hand, and with the other he guided his cock into my mouth. He thrusted slowly into me, our gazes locked on each other, and my hands held onto his large muscular thighs to keep myself steady. “Good fucking girl letting daddy use you, are you daddy’s little pussy pocket? Yes, you are, princess.” He grunted out as he pushed all the to the back of my throat, instantly I gagged, but this only encouraged him more. He wasn’t too rough on my throat, but he sure the fuck was relentless, by the time he was done with me tears where rolling down my eyes. Spit dripping down both sides of my mouth and onto my chest.

“Now’s time for the best part, I want you to fucking milk this cock.” Drew finally let go of my hair, he took a moment to fan it back out around my shoulders, and used his shirt that had been discarded onto the ground to wipe away some of the mess on my face.

“Okay but, can you put the mask back on real quick?” I bit my lip, my eyes darted over to where I threw his mask earlier, Drew grinned in response. He picked the mask up, and slowly pulled it back over his head. He was transformed again.

“You ready to swallow my load sweetheart?” He asked in that dark, sinister voice, my hands gripped him tightly.

“Well…since my big handsome boyfriend isn’t here to save me, but promise after this you’ll leave me alone.” I begged feigning worry, but my lips were already wrapped around the tip of him. He stood with his hands on his hips letting me do my work, with one hand I stroked him at the base of his shaft, while simultaneously sucking his tip; my other hand grasped his balls. He let out a groan as he squeezed then tighter, his chest rising and falling as he breathed heavily, the sound of my lips smacking against his cock, melded with his sweet and feral moans. I knew how tense he’d been feeling all week due to the strenuous work week, Drew never admits when he’s tired, or emotionally at his brink, but I knew. I always know what my man needs, and when it’s time to tell him to take it slow.

“Fucking hell.” His hips unintentionally bucked, that didn’t stop me, I didn’t speed up, or slow down. I kept a steady rhythm till his dick began to twitch, and his hot, milky white cum spilled into my mouth. I swallowed him down, though he created quite a lot into my mouth he miraculously wasn’t done. I kept sucking at his tip, stroking his shaft in a circular motion, and massaged his balls in my palm. “Jesus, you’re a goddamn demon Devlyn, but you’re my demon, shit.” He growled out, as the last little bit of him dribbled onto my tongue. I was so proud of myself, I didn’t hold back the grin that stretched across my swollen lips.

Drew dropped to his knees, just barely coming eye to eye with me. He took the Ghost Face mask off for the final time, I couldn’t tell if he was shocked, but he sure as hell was tired now. “I’m kind of jealous, would you really suck a stranger's dick like that to save your life?” The genuine look of concern on his face caused me to burst into laughter.

It took me a moment to sober up before I said, “So you're worried not because an intruder might actually break into our house and harm me, but because I might suck their dick better than I do yours?” After I reiterated his crazy ass scenario his facial expression dropped into a dumbfounded look.

“Okay whatever, I just didn’t know you were that good, hmm maybe I should start threatening your life more often.” He chuckled, as much as I had fun role playing with him, this was the version of my man I loved the most. Him being silly, and smiling so effortlessly with his cute dimples on full display.

I smacked his arm playfully, “shut up!” He took me by the hands, and pressed each one to his lips softly.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, for real this time.” Drew kissed me on the forehead, then on the nose. When he stood up he brought me with him, he spent the rest of the night getting me ready for bed, and taking care of me.

[phantom-of-the-501st]

Frustrated Clones and a Whole Lot of Trees

Bonus halloween fic! 👻 This is not the one I was in the middle of writing, but I was just reminded of this idea and couldn't bear to not write it down. So here it is!

Just some clone shenanigans in some creepy woods

Tagging @saturn-sends-hugs @inkstainedhandswithrings and @the-bi-space-ace

He ignored the aching in his legs and the branches knocking against his helmet. His lungs hurt as he struggled for breath. He kept running. Whatever that was, it certainly wasn't normal and he was desperate to get as far away from it as he possibly could, as quickly as he could. He could still remember the sensation under his skin as it's eyes stared into him, like his blood had begun to freeze, ice crystals carving away at the inside of his veins. Like his lungs were filling with water and his head with fire. Like his flesh was beginning to slide from this body. He'd managed to turn, to escape, to run. He had to warn the others.

Suddenly, he collided with something solid and tumbled to the ground, dirt making its way into the crevices of his armour. He panicked and scrambled up, pointing his blaster at the thing he had just made contact with.

"What the kriff, Hardcase?"

It was Jesse. Hardcase felt his shoulders slump in relief as he holstered his blaster and went to help his brother up off the floor. "Oh... thank the stars... it's you." He said, panting. His lungs struggled to pull in enough air now that he'd stopped running and he felt a strong ache in his chest. His legs felt like jelly beneath him and the forest was swaying slightly.

Jesse brushed dirt off plastoid before turning to look at his brother. Even though Hardcase couldn't see his face, he was fairly certain Jesse was glaring at him. He probably would've cared more if the world was spinning less and he could actually feel anything below his hips.

"What was that about, 'Case? All I wanted to do was get back to camp and the next thing I know I'm being body slammed into the ground!" Jesse winced and gripped his shoulder as he rotated it a little. "That's gonna leave a bruise." He complained.

"Sorry, Jess. It's just... there's something out there."

Jesse got tense, his head tilting towards Hardcase and concern bleeding into his voice. "What kind of something?"

"Ghosts."

Hardcase watched his brother's stance falter slightly. It was a little easier to concentrate now that his blood wasn't rushing in his ears as much.

"Ghosts? What? Like force ghosts?"

"No. Like spooky ghosts."

He knew at that point that he'd totally lost the other.

"Spooky ghosts."

"Yes."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes I'm sure!" Hardcase grew frustrated. "What? Do you not believe me now? You were all concerned like two seconds ago!"

"Yeah, because I thought you'd actually seen something. Ghosts aren't real, Hardcase! You know that!"

"What about force ghosts? You were literally just talking about force ghosts!"

"For kriffs sake that's not the same thing! Force ghosts exist. Other ghosts do not."

"I know what I saw."

"I think you know what you think you saw."

"Oh come on, Jess! Work with me here!" Jesse wasn't looking convinced. Hardcase felt anger bubble in his gut. "I am telling you, there's something out there!"

His brother just sighed and shook his head. "Look, tell you what. We'll head back to camp and tell the others. If the general thinks it's worth checking out, then we'll go and have a look, okay?"

Hardcase wasn't sure he wanted to go back there. Actually, no, he was definitely sure. He did not, under any circumstances, want to go back to that place. He wanted to leave and get as far away from this stars forsaken planet as possible, preferably back to his bed on Kamino, where he would be safe from whatever was out in these trees. But the others needed to know what was out there and if anyone would know how to handle it, it would be Obi Wan.

Hardcase trudged behind Jesse as they made their way through the forest. It took around ten minutes of walking in slightly uncomfortable silence before they began to see the glow of a campfire through the branches. They made their way into a small clearing, where the rest of the group were all sat in a circle, some on boxes and others on the floor, arms propped on knees or legs spread out in front of them.

"There you are!" Rex said cheerfully. "I was starting to get worried that we would have to send a search party out to go and find you two." He kept his tone light, but Hardcase knew that there had been at least a small amount of genuine worry there. He and Jesse removed their helmets and tucked them under their arms.

"Scouting go okay?" Kix asked, titling his head to look up at his brothers.

"Hardcase is seeing things." Jesse said as he dropped down to sit next to the fire.

Kix's eyebrows furrowed. "Anything to be worried about? Did he hit his head or something?"

"No." Said Jesse easily. "At least I don't think so. But he is seeing ghosts."

"Force ghosts?" Obi Wan asked inquisitively.

"That's what I wanted to know. But nope! No force ghosts, just spooky ones apparently.

"Spooky ones?" Cody looked a little bemused.

"Spooky ones."

"Oh jeez, really, 'Case? Ghosts?" Hardcase gritted his teeth as he looked over at Fives, who was sat in front of the crate Echo was on, his brother's legs on either side of him.

"Lay off him a little." Tup said. "He hasn't slept properly in like... three days."

"You haven't slept in three days?" Rex said, clearly alarmed.

"Oh, he has slept." Jesse chimed in. "Just not a lot."

Rex and Kix shared a look of concern, their gaze flicking over to Obi Wan, who seemed to be thinking, but not overly worried about the fact that Hardcase was apparently sleep deprived. And seeing dead people.

"Tired enough to start seeing ghosts?" Kix asked.

"Oh, probably."

"I can't believe you haven't slept in three days!" Fives exclaimed. "No wonder your eyes are deceiving you."

"You're one to talk." Echo said, poking his brother in the shoulder. "You once didn't sleep for seven."

"When was this?" Rex seemed even more panicked. He was ignored as the twins started bickering with each other.

"You're right! And you know what, Echo? It was awful. I started seeing colours!"

"You can always see colours, di'kut!"

"I meant tasting colours! ...or smelling them? I don't remember. But it wasn't good!"

"No wonder you don't remember. You hadn't slept in a week!" Echo said, shoving his brother in the head as Fives tried to bat his hand away.

"That's not as bad as the time one of the shinies had to go to the med bay because he accidentally ate glue." Jesse added.

Rex looked absolutely horrified. Cody leant over to whisper in his brother's ear. "How exactly is your battalion still alive?"

"I have no idea." Rex responded in despair.

"Hey, let's not forget the time you got stuck in the air vents and had to be rescued by Commander Wolffe!" Fives said, pointing an accusatory finger at Jesse. "He was definitely not happy about that one."

"Wolffe is never happy with anything."

"Of course he isn't! He has to keep rescuing clones from air vents!"

Rex just shook his head. "I want a new battalion. This ones full of defectives." Cody simply gave him a comforting pat on the back, although the grin on his face wasn't conveying much actual sympathy.

Hardcase's arm began to shake with the amount of force he was gripping his helmet with. They weren't listening. He finally snapped.

"Will you lot just listen to me for five minutes!"

Everybody turned to stare at him in shock, with the exception of Obi Wan, who simply looked at him with a raised eyebrow. Hardcase closed his eyes and took a deep breath. In through the nose, out through the mouth. He opened his eyes and looked at the Jedi.

"There's something out there, General. I don't know what exactly, but there is something out there and it isn't good."

"You just said it was ghosts!"

"Oh, shut up, Fives!"

"Don't tell me to shut up! You can't come in here on three days of no sleep and tell us that there are things that don't exist out there!"

Echo clearly felt the need to intervene as he held onto Fives' shoulder to prevent him from getting up. "Don't be an ass, Fives."

"He's the one-!"

"Calm down, all of you!" Silence fell over the camp as Rex's voice dissipated into the trees. "Stop acting like children. If there is something out there, we need to know what it is. What I do not need-" He turned to look at Fives and silence him before the protest he was about to make made it past his lips,. "Is a bunch of qualified soldiers arguing with each other! Now be quiet, and listen to what Hardcase has to say." Rex cast a stern look over the squad before nodding his head at Hardcase, encouraging him to continue.

"Err... thank you, sir." Hardcase gave a nervous cough. "Like I said, there's something out there. I don't know what it is, but I don't think it's safe. I think we need to get out of here."

"Hmm..." Obi Wan was tapping his finger on his chin. "Did this thing try to hurt you at all?"

Hardcase didn't really know how to answer that. He remembered the sensation, the awful, crawling, burning sensation. It had been terrible. But the thing hadn't actually tried to hurt him. It never even came near him. Yes, Hardcase had felt awful, but he was physically fine. The only injuries he had were from colliding with Jesse as he ran away. "Well... no."

"Hmmm..." Nobody said anything as the general continued his thinking. Fives glanced at Echo nervously, and then over at Jesse who just shrugged.

"I think we need to go and have a look. Together." Obi Wan finally said.

Well... that was the last thing that Hardcase had wanted to hear.

〰〰〰

The group marched through the forest, blasters at the ready. Obi Wan led the group, lightsaber held out in front of him as a light source and with the clones paired up behind him. Hardcase and Tup, Jesse and Kix, Fives and Echo, and then Rex and Cody at the back. They were getting closer and closer to the spot where Hardcase had seen the ghost and he could feel his hair standing on end. His blacks felt damp as he sweated nervously. He adjusted his fingers on his blaster and hunched up his shoulders, as if doing so would protect him from whatever was out there. He could see Tup glance over at him out of the corner of his visor.

Then they stopped.

"Is this the place?" Obi Wan asked, surveying the trees around them. There didn't seem to be an edge to the forest. It just continued on into the distance, endless.

Hardcase swallowed. His throat felt tight and his mouth was dry. He adjusted his hands again. They were clammy. He could feel his blacks clinging to his palms. "Yes." It was all he could get out.

"Okay. Spread out in your pairs. Hardcase and Tup, head north. Jesse and Kix, east. Fives and Echo, west. Rex and Cody, south. See if you can spot anything. Don't go far and come back here when you're done searching. Understood?" They all nodded. "Good. I'll stay here and keep look out." The pairs nodded again and headed off in their designated directions.

Hardcase's breathing was uneven. He was scared. More scared than he had ever been. He didn't want to encounter that thing again, nor did he want it to find any of his brothers either.

"You okay?" Tup asked.

Hardcase was tense. "Err... yeah. Just nervous, ya know?"

"Sure. I get it." Tup stopped and gave his brother a comforting squeeze on the shoulder. "Look, it's going to be okay. We'll do a quick scout and head straight back. I'm sure there's nothing to worry about."

Hardcase just tilted his head slightly as a reply, to which Tup gave his shoulder another squeeze.

As they started moving again, Hardcase couldn't help but feel a little frustrated. He knew Tup was just trying to help, but it was also clear that his brother didn't actually believe him. There was something out here. He knew it, even if no one wanted to take his word for it.

They marched onwards, stopping and spinning in a slow circle every now and then to check their surroundings. Nothing. The more they went on, the more nervous Hardcase grew. It was too still, too quiet. He didn't understand. There was supposed to be something here. They called off their search after twenty minutes and decided to head back to where Obi Wan was. Hardcase didn't know whether to be annoyed or relieved. There was nothing there. Nothing to be worried about.

And now his brothers were going to think he was even more crazy. Great.

When they got back to their original spot, only the twins were absent, although it didn't take long for them to appear through the trees.

"Find anything?" Rex asked.

"Nope!" Fives responded. "Just trees. A whole lot of trees." He sounded frustrated. Hardcase couldn't blame him. They had all been marched out to the middle of some dark woods to go hunting for a whole lot of nothing.

"Okay, well. The others didn't find anything either. If there is anything here it doesn't look like it's going to be making another appearance any time soon." Obi Wan looked at them all. "I say we head back to camp. We'll all get whatever sleep we can and then wait for a pickup tomorrow."

A chorus of "yes, sir!" echoed through the trees and they all made their way back to camp.

By the time the pick-up shuttle touched down just after sunrise, Hardcase was now four days down on sleep and feeling rather grouchy because of it. He was even starting to think he actually was insane. Maybe he had been seeing things before. The lack of severe injuries suggested that there had been no weird encounters (unless pinballing off his brother counted. Jesse was clearly unhappy about the extra set of bruises he'd acquired). They had found nothing, and nothing had tried to ambush them in the middle of the night. Hardcase knew because he hadn't been able to keep his eyes off the trees.

He sighed and slumped down in a seat, resting his head on the window. It felt cool and relaxing. It soothed his growing headache and put just enough pressure on his temple to distract him. Everything ached and he just wanted to go home. The armour was uncomfortable and still lined with dirt, his feet were covered in so many blisters they were practically a different shape, and his neck felt so stiff he was sure his muscles had ossified. Things had been weird on the way back to camp. He was either being coddled by concerned brothers who were almost certain he had lost at least 90% of his senses, or he was being snipped at by the other half who blamed him for the impromptu field trip that had left a couple of them left with twigs lodged in places they didn't want them.

Rex had looked like he was ready to leave all of them behind, hoping that the ghosts were in fact real and that they would take them somewhere where they couldn't give him any more grey hairs. Cody was also close to being sacrificed to a paranormal entity if Rex's tired stares were anything to go by.

As soon as everyone was seated, the craft started to rise, ready to start heading back towards Kamino. Finally. This planet could burn for all he cared. Hardcase opened his eyes and looked at the trees as they became smaller below them. He froze. His blood turned to ice.

There was a figure standing in the middle of the clearing they had just taken off from.

And they were staring right at Hardcase.

[psychiatricwarfare]

PLEASE tag unreality posts properly

ok so ive noticed that some of yall really have no idea what unreality means and i can tell because i have the tag blacklisted so i dont get needlessly triggered while scrolling through tumblr dot com and as long as im told its not real its usually fine so ill click on the button to view it and itll be like... a picture of someones childhood home.. that... that is Not unreality. even if it is YOUR childhood home and it makes YOU disassociate. that is Not unreality and you're needlessly making Other delusional/psychotic/disassociative people's minds run wild as it tries to guess What in this picture isnt real & can spiral into convincing ourselves that nothing is real

on the other hand, sometimes ill be hit with a post with No Warning that says some shit like "THEY are coming for you. Hide." and like do i need to explain how this is harmful??

im not saying you cant shitpost or weirdpost or creepypost or whatever but pls tag properly (learn how under the cut)

if you dont know what should be tagged as unreality, its anything that isnt actually real/true, i would say that most importantly, unreality should be tagged on posts that could trigger delusions in people. think back to the me or ps5 song, the guy who originally duetted her has come forward asking people to please tag it as unreality due to the lines "its me boy im the ps5 speaking to you from inside your brain" and "listen to me, boy, your free will is an illusion" triggering people into experiencing delusions. in general, if the goal of your post is to harmlessly scare someone at 2am by making up a spooky scenario or evil creature or whatever, it needs an unreality tag

"you have been chosen" type posts are a form of unreality as well and can trigger delusions of grandeur, religious delusions, etc.

eerie and unsettling posts (i particularly see this with photographs) with no words and/or anything fake added are NOT unreality, it is only unreality if there are UNreal elements or if the entire thing is made up

common tags that unreality is found in are things like weirdcore, dreamcore, liminalcore (<- this one is usually mistagged unsettling photographs of real places), chaos posting, etc.

if you have any more questions i highly recommend interacting with (& befriending) more people who experience dissociation/psychosis/schizophrenia/delusions/paranoia/etc so you can get a better understanding of what people like us experience